Bring me to Life
by purplecheshirecat
Summary: This is my first X-men fic, so be gentle, it's Wolverine and an OC, read and review please!
1. Chapter One

Title: Bring me to Life

Rating: R

Genre: Drama/Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody and I don't claim to know anything about Marvel in general, this is going entirely on what I glean from the movies and the Net, so nobody sue or get offended.

Summary: Not sure yet, we'll find out together.

Author's Notes: Okay, this is my first X-men fic and I'm rather nervous because I think everybody everywhere has similar feelings about the sappy girls with crushes who don't know their shit. (just to clarify, I don't even particularly LIKE Hugh Jackman, I detested that movie with him and Meg Ryan, though I WILL say… he's very grrr in this one) If you feel like I'm missing something or leaving something out that I should stick in there, or hey, if you just have a general suggestion I'm open to feedback and stuff like that, the main character's an OC just because I don't feel like I know enough about the other characters to make them a main focus. Like I said, if it sucks then feel free to let me know, I'd rather know than not, after all. That said (and if you're still reading I'm impressed) I hope y'all enjoy.

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            Leora Cassadine exited the taxi, staring up at the large mansion with mixed feelings as the driver stacked her various suitcases next to her. She smiled at him as he got back into the car, driving off with the sound of skittering gravel. She rolled her eyes, noting that she'd missed the chance to call him back and drive away from this place, this experience. She had a feeling it wouldn't go well, and seeing as how most of her feelings were startlingly accurate, Leora couldn't help wondering why she was still here. The doors at the top of the steps opened and a smiling woman in a conservative-yet-funky business suit exited, the suit was red with a burgundy top, the woman's hair brown and pulled back softly from her face, she was pretty, but Leora could tell they'd never really be friends. 

            "Miss Cassadine? I'm Jean Grey." 

            "Doctor," Leora acknowledged, extending her hand to shake the other woman's and nodding to her bags, "About those…" 

            "Oh, no problem, there will be someone right out to take them to your suite. Right now I'm going to take you to meet Professor Xavier." Leora arched an eyebrow, o-kay… she'd hoped she'd get a few minutes alone to get used to all this. She decided to let it go, simply allowing herself to be led away without comment. She didn't say a word as Doctor Grey led her through the vaulted ceilings, marble tiles, sterling silver fixtures, ironically, she found that even with the almost opulence she was surprised to see so many teenagers running around. Well, not running, really, more like walking quickly to classes. She had to remind herself that this was a school as well. Doctor Grey opened a set of double doors and gestured for Leora to enter. She did, raising both eyebrows at a dark woman with white blond hair talking to a seated man at the desk.

            "Ah, Miss Cassadine, excellent. We were just finishing up, meet Orroro, also called Storm. Storm, this is Leora Cassadine." Leora smiled, her arms crossed and cradling her breasts. She was unsure of herself in this setting, actually unsure of everything lately. Doctor Grey had entered the room, followed by a model-perfect looking man with red sunglasses, the professor introduced him as Scott, or Cyclops. Leora wisely kept her sarcastic humor to herself. She bit her lip, cracking her knuckles nervously and taking the seat across from the desk. The wingback chair was comfortable and she brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, suddenly cold. Xavier looked at her keenly, his rich English voice filling her head. "You're here for help, Miss Cassadine, might I suggest you tell us your story?" 

            "You received my files?" He inclined his head.

            "Yes, we have them, but we would still like to hear YOU'RE story." She sighed, looking down at herself. Usually she wore incredibly provocative clothing, but today, knowing she'd have to relive… that… she'd worn the baggiest pair of jeans she owned, along with a loose sweatshirt. She looked like some kind of war orphan and she knew it, though granted she looked like a rich one. 

            "I guess it started really when I woke up in the hospital, I'd always been fairly intuitive, like I could look at a person I didn't know and guage their mood, I'd gotten strong feelings about things, stuff like that. Well, when I woke up from the coma… it was different. With people I could see this kind of shifting cloud around them, and it had colors that changed with their moods, I touch things now and I get flashes. Not like clairvoyant "this pen belongs to Sara" but like full out premonitions of what would happen next. Not with everything, but some things. And I can't control it. I'll be in a crowded room and I'll know what's going to happen to most of the people there. And it's getting worse, their feelings are like flies in my head, if I'm touching someone then it's ten times worse." She felt her eyes prickle, "I know it's unrealistic to want this to go away. But I'm afraid, it's getting worse, more profound. I'm afraid it's going to kill me." 

            Professor Xavier looked at her, she could see an open folder in front of him, she knew it was her own. "When you experience the premonitions, what do you feel?"

            "You mean after?" He nodded, she shrugged, furrowing her brow, "There's… nothing after. It's like I crash. I usually have a bad migraine and I pretty much pass out for a while." She sighed, "at first the premonitions were small, not very involved, but they're getting bigger, and the times that I spend blacked out are getting longer. The last one I was out for a full day. I know that you deal with… mutations… or whatever, but like I told you on the phone, professor, no one else can help me. People either think I'm nuts or that I'm a witch." The professor nodded. 

            "Actually from what I've read, this very well could be a mutation, you said that before the incident you were very intuitive, there's no reason to believe that that's something that would have progressed naturally, but because your body was traumatized it… kicked it up a notch, to use the vernacular." 

            "I imagine you've changed considerably since the incident anyway," Storm put in quietly, she was leaning against a window ledge, her hands shoved into her pockets. Leora arched an eyebrow, they were saying 'the incident' because they assumed that she wouldn't' want to discuss it. 

            "Don't mince words on my account, please. I was raped, that's all there is to it," she spat bitterly, digging her fingernails into the chair's arms. Storm winced, Xavier simply looked at her, Scott turned abruptly to look out the window and Doctor Grey bit her lip. 

            "Okay, you were raped. And I doubt you'll deny that it was traumatic." Leora snorted.

            "Yes, it was. The man did enough that I was in a coma for two weeks, when I woke up…" she sighed, how could she explain this in ways they could understand? "Before… I was… well, I wasn't slutty, but I had experience. Afterward…" she looked down at her clothes, "present wardrobe notwithstanding," she rolled her eyes, "I became the nightmare that that man accused me of being." She shivered, sometimes the memories of that night were so intense that it actually took her a minute to realize that it WAS a memory. 

            "Do you remember how you got to the hospital?" Professor Xavier asked quietly, she was covering it well, but he could feel this woman's pain in his head, the way she 'took control of her life' by becoming a seductress, being the dominant rather than submissive. He could also feel her fear in the visions. It was one thing to close off one's emotions; it was another thing entirely to close off one's emotions and be forced to deal with everyone else's.           

            "No. One of the nurses told me I was brought in by a man, but that he hadn't wanted to be involved. Like he'd dumped me on a gurney and walked back out again." She bit her lip, if she closed her eyes she could remember a silhouette in the alley, rain bringing the smell of motor oil and whiskey, but she couldn't remember his face. He had been strong. But she couldn't remember if he'd said anything. She remembered hurting. That was all. The shadows and the pain. She knew she was a shell of what she once was, she knew that she felt nothing other than the superficial when it came to her own emotions. But she wanted this to be over. She wanted a way to control the premonitions, maybe even figure out a way to work backward as well. Seeing into the future was all well and good, but what if you couldn't even remember your past? 

            Xavier hit a switch on his chair, Leora realized that he was in a motorized wheelchair and he stopped at the side of his desk, obviously deciding that the meeting was pretty well over. "We'll help you Miss Cassadine, obviously I can't promise you anything, but if nothing else you'll learn how to control your talent, to turn it on and off at will. And of course I want to pay attention to your reactions to your premonitions, as well as start discussing in detail the rape and afterwards, I have a feeling you haven't really delved into those emotions. There's a very good chance a part of your control will stem from those." Leora ran a hand through her hair, it was no surprise that they'd want some form of therapy for her, but she didn't have to like it. She rather liked that she couldn't remember all the details of the incident. 

            "Thank you, Professor." He nodded his assent, then turned to Jean.

            "Doctor Grey will show you to your rooms, we'll start tomorrow." Jean rose with Leora gesturing towards the door.

            "Right this way." 

            Leora followed the woman out, tossing her shoulder length, berry colored hair. It was dyed of course, but she liked it anyway. There was some kind of commotion in the hallway, but she ignored that, choosing instead to simply follow quietly behind the woman. Jean turned to look at her, "You'll have to excuse the students, they get a little riled whenever the Wolverine comes back." Leora arched an eyebrow and Jean grinned, slowing down so that Leora wouldn't have to talk to her back, "Wolverine is one of us, though he tends to pop in and out. You probably won't see much of him, but the kids are fascinated by him." Leora shot Doctor Grey a keen look, the way she said the name made Leora think the students weren't the only ones that were fascinated by this 'wolverine'. 

            They reached the top of a set of stairs and then stopped in front of a pair of double doors, Jean opened them with a flourish. "This will be your suite," Leora saw that her bags were stacked neatly next to a large armoire. She heard a door open behind her and turned with Jean, the other woman was already talking but Leora was too surprised to do anything more than stare. "And that's Wolverine, Logan, this is Leora." 

            Logan stared at her in stunned silence, Leora's ice blue eyes widened, her lips parting as her breath hissed out of her lips. "You!"   

            And then there was blackness.


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Bring me to Life 2/?

Disclaimer: everything from the previous chapter still stands

Author's Notes: Thanks to you guys that have reviewed, I really appreciate it as I'm a total feedback whore and I don't care who knows it *grin* but anyway, hope y'all like this chapter too!

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            Leora came awake slowly, opening her eyes and then stretching, when she realized she had a large light shining over her head, one of those that the hospital had seemed so keen on, she sat straight up, clutching the thin white sheet to her naked chest. She realized simultaneously that not only was the sheet incredibly thin, but that she was completely nude, not just topless. The room was large, like an operating room with standard, tripod lights placed strategically around the table on which she lay, medical equipment was throughout the room and she knew she wasn't alone. Breathing deep she cleared her throat loudly, "Hello?" She called, trying to calm her beating heart, reminding herself both where she was and that she had asked for this help. She wasn't attached to any machines, but she had a feeling she had been.

            "You gave us quite a scare for a minute there," Doctor Grey answered amiably, rounding the corner behind her. Leora craned her neck over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow and tossing her hair out of her face. The woman had a clipboard with her, she was going over notes. 

            "Well, I'm so sorry to worry you," Leora answered sarcastically. This woman annoyed her, though she couldn't figure out why. 

            "How do you know Logan?" Doctor Grey changed the subject completely, placing the clipboard on a rolling cart next to the table that Leora had missed. She was holding the sheet to her breasts by crossing her arms over her chest and drawing her knees up, she realized her back was completely bare to the room but she couldn't bring herself to care. 

            "Why do you care?" Leora challenged, arching an eyebrow. 

            "She raises a good point, Jean," Scott walked out from the same direction and Leora rolled her eyes, this sounded like an old argument, the man in question putting just a little to much emphasis on his girlfriend's name. If Leora closed her eyes, the mental image she had of Scott would be just now tinged with green. He was jealous of Logan. Logan…

            "Not now, Scott." Doctor Grey looked at Leora, gesturing to her back, "Those are some nasty scars on your shoulder blades, do you remember what happened? They aren't that old." 

            "They happened the night of the rape," Leora answered, shrugging and leaving it at that. She didn't want to remember any more than what she already did. 

            "I'm sorry-"

            "Don't be. It happened, it's over. Where are my clothes? Because I'm not walking back to my rooms with just a sheet." Doctor Grey looked like she wanted to pursue the subject but thought better of it, choosing instead to reach down on the cart and pick up a folded terry cloth robe and a bra and panty set. 

            "I didn't want to go through your bags, these were on top and I assumed you'd be more comfortable in your own clothes." Leora arched an eyebrow, glancing from first Scott to Jean and then back again. Noting that he was watching the scene with the interest of a college boy in a girl's locker room, Leora promptly dropped the sheet, baring her breasts and reaching for the proffered items. Jean stepped back, surprised, Leora wondered if she had problems with easy displays of nudity. Really wouldn't do for a doctor, now would it? She put on the bra, shoving the sheet aside and throwing her legs over the table, she slid the panties up her calves, putting on just the tiniest bit more show than was necessary. Standing up she felt the cool tile under feet and belted the robe loosely on her body. It scooped, showing the bra and a good line of flesh to her belly button, but she really didn't' care. 

            "Can I go now? And why was I naked?" 

            "You were unconscious, you simply passed out, we thought… I thought," the Doctor corrected herself, "that it would be better to do a complete exam. It seems you were simply shocked. I'm sorry if it disturbs you." Leora glared darkly.

            "Yeah well, forgive me if I seem to get upset about waking up in strange places without my clothes, it makes me go all jumpy like." Scott was instantly contrite.

            "We're so sorry, we didn't even think… about that… but honestly, it was just to make sure there wasn't anything seriously wrong. Do you want me to show you to your rooms so you can be alone?" Jean glared at Scott, Leora arched an eyebrow. He was like a puppy dog. She knew he wasn't attracted to her, well sexually sure, but not emotionally. He was hopelessly devoted to this woman, but right now he was trying to make her jealous. That and he really was contrite. Leora had a feeling he was one of those men with a perpetual child in his eyes. 

            "That'd be nice." She answered finally, allowing him to take her hand and guide her out of the room, completely ignoring a surprised Jean Grey. Leora waited until they got to the long hallway before commenting. "The next time you want to use me to get back at her, I suggest you let me know ahead of time, I can prepare better." 

            "Sorry about that, she just makes me so MAD sometimes." Leora snorted.

            "I hadn't noticed. So what's your deal, Scotty?" He glared.

            "Scott. And no deal. I just don't like how she baby's Logan." Leora resisted the urge to ask about him. She knew she had to tread carefully, none of these people knew her. 

            "She baby's Logan…?" 

            "Yeah, like he can't handle himself, I mean… he's only been on his own for God knows how long? And it's not like he can't take care of himself." Leora snorted again, a very unladylike gesture, but she didn't care. 

            "I'm sure he can. But why care? Think she's gonna cheat on you?" Scott shrugged.

            "Nah, I know she won't. I trust her. It's HIM I don't trust." He finished, they'd reached a door, Scott hit a code in a key pad and it slid back, revealing a long wooden hallway, it was the hall that led to her rooms. He kept walking, escorting her completely to her door before stepping back. "If you want I can ask the professor for different rooms for you," he glared at the closed doors across the hall, "if it makes you uncomfortable that is." Leora shook her head.

            "This is fine, it's not a big deal, I just wasn't expecting to see him again is all." Scott looked intrigued.

            "You never did tell Jean how you knew him." Leora smirked.

            "I hadn't planned on it. Good night, Scott." She gently tugged the door away from his hand, pulling the knob and closing it quietly. She felt him leave, knew he'd take her words at face value and not push, she had a feeling he was the only one of any of them who would be willing to leave it at that, and then turned to go to her suitcases. She walked through the day room doors, into the large bedroom. The bed was huge, four postered and draped, heavy feather comforter and lots of fluffy pillows, it was practically a shrine. She shivered, it was a bed begging for more than one person. 

            Leora forced herself to reach the suitcases, reaching into the one that had already been opened and retrieving a pair of pajamas, a long sleeved shirt and a pair of pants. Stripping out of the robe she let it fall to the floor, reaching behind her back to the bra clasp. "You've changed," She gasped, turning abruptly to see the man sitting in the wingback chair, his boots up on the ottoman, his hands clasped on his chest like he had every right to be in this room. She let her arms fall and she knew the bra fell with them. His eyes seemed to flair at the baring of her breasts and she tossed her hair back again. Logan set his feet on the floor, rising abruptly and stalking over to her. She stared up at him, expecting to feel something, fear maybe. But she couldn't conjure up anything. Nothing. 

            "So have you," she murmured softly. "It's the hair, mostly. And you've gotten rid of the dog tags," she said gently, reaching up to his collar bone, smooth, with no familiar toilet chain and small, metal squares. "Why are you here, Logan?" 

            His breath hissed out through his lips as her fingers gently traced the line of his collar bone, he was wearing a wife beater, there were plenty of muscles that were completely bare in his arms that she could reach without getting impeded by the material of the tank top. His hands settled on her waist and she jumped slightly, his body was hotter than she remembered, his heat seemed to burn through her. "You mean here… in this room?" She shrugged.

            "I mean here. The Logan I remember didn't want help for anything." She lifted a shoulder sardonically, "At least not from me," Leora managed to finish quietly. He winced. 

            "There's a lot that's changed since then, Leora." She shivered at the sound of her name on his tongue. He had always had this effect on her, he was the only person she could never read. His voice rumbled in his chest, she resisted the urge to settle her hands on it, to feel the vibrations, rest her cheek on it, to listen to his heartbeat. All that was over and done with anyway. 

            "You're right," she answered softly, turning away abruptly. She crossed her arms over her chest, walking back to the suitcase and reaching instead for a simple tee shirt. Those were more comfortable anyway. She pulled it over her head, but he'd gotten a nice view of her body as she'd walked away, his eyes raking over everything, when he reached the shoulders he forced himself to look away, memories flooded back to him that he'd rather forget. She let the shirt drop and the material gathered around her hips, she straightened it without thinking, finger combing her hair before turning back around. The shirt was a deep purple, complementing her hair and smooth, light skin to perfection, he wondered if she either realized it or cared. 

            "What happened, Leora?" He asked softly, silently musing to himself whether or not it was a question for her or for himself.

            "To us?" she shrugged, still not looking at him, "You got scared, I got scared, we both ran away. What do you want to hear?" He walked up behind her silently, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. She flinched away from him and he withdrew, remembering and damning himself for it. 

            "I miss it," he answered softly, remembering the way her body used to give to his. To be pliant and gentle, or even hard and insatiable. She bit her lower lip, her hands fisting at her sides, trying to stay calm and to her resolve. She wouldn't let herself get sucked into his eyes again. 

            "Me too," she answered finally. It'd been so long since she had allowed herself to think about him that seeing him again this afternoon had been too much. The shock to her system was just too great, she blanked out completely. Leora sighed, realizing she was close to tears for no apparent reason. "I can't do this, Logan." 

            "Do what?" she turned to face him, he looked perplexed. 

            "This, with you," she waved a hand between their two bodies. "I'm here for me, I have to get help and I'm not going to jeopardize that. Besides, I wasn't kidding when I said things have changed. I'm not that same little girl anymore, Logan. I can't be." 

            "What are you saying, Leora?" His brow was furrowed. She shrugged.        

            "I can't let myself be that trusting anymore. I got hurt. I'm not… I just can't feel anything anymore." She finished finally. 

            "You can't… feel anything," he echoed, obviously not believing it for a second. This was Leora for God sake, the same Leora who cried inconsolably when he'd accidentally hit a cat while driving her car. Usually her problem was she felt too much. 

            "That's right. After I was raped I couldn't deal with what I was feeling, so I cut myself off and then when I was okay again I couldn't feel at all. I didn't remember how." 

            "That's bull, Leora. You won't because you won't let yourself. Not can't."

            "And where were you, huh?" She felt the same anger at him building in her body and she had to force it back down again. "Where were YOU when all this was going down? I woke up in that hospital bed alone and terrified, when I asked the nurse she said that you'd never visited, that some completely STRANGER had brought me in. What does that say about you, Logan?" He didn't say anything, his jaw clenched tightly. What did that say about him? That she'd been raped and her lover left her? That Summers was right and he was a jackass? Or simply that he really was just an animal? Probably all of the above. 

            "I can't say anything to that, Leora." 

            "Just tell me where you were," she felt the tears brimming and then falling down her cheeks. "Why weren't you there? Why didn't you find me after? Why did you JUST LEAVE?!" He winced, what was he supposed to say? 

            "I can't tell you that, Leora. I'm sorry." She froze. 

            "I haven't seen you since it happened and all I get is 'I can't tell you'?" 

            "What do you want? You don't remember who did it, I can't just take care of it. Don't you think I WANT to kill whoever hurt you? Don't you think that it's eating me up that I wasn't there? But you knew how I was when we started, you always knew that I could just pack up one day and not look back. It never bothered you before." He knew he was being purposely callous. He knew she deserved a lot more consideration than he was giving her, but he couldn't do it. Not and still be able to live with himself. He reached for her and she flinched hard, backing herself into a wall. 

            "Get out," she whispered softly. He furrowed his brow, murmuring her name softly. "Get out, get out, GET OUT!" She refused to let herself break down in front of him. Right now she didn't care that she was being angry and she didn't care that he had his own pain and guilt to deal with. He stepped back abruptly, hurt showing for a brief moment in his eyes before it was masked completely from her. His face became the mask that most people knew, she knew she was one of the few people that knew how he really was, his real moods, facial expressions, hell, even his mannerisms were different around certain people. He turned abruptly, exiting the room without another word. 

            Leora stayed in the center of the room for a moment, letting it sink in that she had just sent away the only man she'd ever really loved. She tried to conjure up those feelings that she had once felt. She tried to cry, she tried to feel something. But there was… nothing. She sobbed dryly, but other than the few tears she'd shed earlier, with him close by, there wasn't anything. Leora found herself hugging her knees on the hardwood floor, rocking back and forth, sifting through every touch that they'd ever shared. Trying to feel something. Anything.

            But he was gone.

            And there was… nothing.


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Bring me to Life 3/?

Author's Notes: Thanks again to everybody that's reviewed, I'm still not sure exactly what I'm doing with this story, like I'd said earlier, I'm just rambling and hoping a plot develops. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!

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            It'd been two days since Logan's appearance in her bedroom and since then he and Leora had begun an angry avoidance of each other. Occasionally she'd find herself staring at him, be it across a crowded room or simply from her bedroom window, but every time she forced herself to remember the scene, how he'd stared at her coldly and basically told her she was insane to expect him to be there for her. Granted Leora realized she was purposely simplifying it, but if she let herself see the truth in it, then she'd run across the hall and grovel at his feet. She knew it was pride, but she couldn't help herself. 

            Xavier had to know what was going on, odds were Jean did as well, but neither said anything, wisely realizing that a person's mind was a person's mind and if they weren't going to take advice, the sure as hell weren't going to take a mental push from a psychic. Leora found herself walking the grounds aimlessly, she'd finished the day's meeting with the professor and had fled, they hadn't touched on anything really, to be honest with the rape a lot of her memories had left anyway. It was like her life began on that night. The only _true_ memories she had were of Logan. Ironically, those were the ones she wished she could forget. She kicked savagely at a pinecone, rounding a copse of trees and finding herself staring at a large pond. There was a low stone bench in the shade of a massive oak and she used the excuse to sit down. Tossing her hair back she slipped off the shoes on her feet, she tried to go barefoot whenever possible and stretched, wiggling her toes luxuriously in the grass, groaning softly in contentment.

            "Oh, it's you," Leora jumped, twisting her upper body to find the voice filled with sarcastic disappointment. A girl of about seventeen, maybe eighteen, with white streaks in her otherwise dark brown hair stood in a defiant stance, hands on hips, a pout firmly in place. Leora arched an eyebrow.

            "I'm sorry to disappoint you. Whom were you expecting?" The girl glared.

            "Doesn't matter." Leora gestured to the other end of the bench.

            "Please, sit down, I'm Leora." The girl snorted.

            "I know." She sat down, actually straddling the end of the bench so that she was staring Leora in the face. "Rogue," she finally answered, sounding like she rather liked the mystery of keeping Leora in the dark about her name. Leora smiled, kicking a leg over the bench to mimic the girls sitting position. 

            "Now, why don't you want me to be here?" Rogue shrugged.

            "It doesn't matter. What kind of a girly name is Leora Cassadine? I mean, you sound like one of those big breasted heroines from some trashy romance novel. And I gotta know, is that accent even real?" Leora arched an eyebrow.

            "Yes, and it's a family name, actually." To be honest, she really didn't have much of an accent, just a lilting, musical quality to her voice that came back when she was really upset, emotional upheaval or otherwise. Rogue gave her another look and she sighed, "I grew up spending my summers in Greece, my father was Greek, Leora means 'rebirth', by the way. And our surname 'Cassadine' we were one of one of the more powerful families in the country." Rogue raised her eyebrows.

            "So you're loaded?" Leora laughed softly.

            "I suppose," Leora didn't like talking about the family. She knew them, remembered them, but it was misty, like some kind of a distant dream. Her mother had died young and her father had disappeared, she was alone, and she supposed an heiress. Well, she was rich and she had property, nice clothes, a summer estate in Greece and a house in New Orleans. She didn't want for anything. She snorted, except for Logan. "Why the sudden interest in me?" She asked gently. Rogue stared at her levelly.

            "Do you know what they're saying about you? And him?" The way she said 'him', the inflection, Leora knew without having to be told that the girl meant Logan. Leora sighed.

            "What are they saying?" She almost didn't want to know.

            "You two were involved, weren't you?" 

            "About as much as could be expected." 

            "So you were fuck buddies?" Leora looked into the girls eyes keenly.

            "Would that make you feel better? If I told you that it was just meaningless sex and that it was a long time ago? If you expect me to reassure you, little girl, you're sadly mistaken." Rogue winced.

            "I didn't mean that-"

            "Yeah, you did. I'm getting sick of people talking to me about Logan as though he's this mythical god! He's a _man_, for Chrissakes!" Leora stopped talking abruptly, realizing she was rambling. "I'm sorry," she sighed, "it's just that I've seen him, I know him, and he's not the saint you people seem to think he is." 

            "I never said he was a saint." Leora didn't comment, just looked levelly at the girl. "He took care of me, okay? He touched me when everybody else was afraid of getting their minds sucked out and he listens when I talk," she took a breath, "And he doesn't treat me like a kid," she finished finally.

            "You're in love with him," Leora put in quietly, she could sense it from this girl, the passion rolling in waves from her body, like dark rose petals. If Leora closed her eyes she could see the burgundy color surrounding this girl, while it was probably little more than a crush, it ran deep and certainly didn't mean that the feelings were any less real. The girl kicked her legs on either side of the stone bench, perhaps realizing she was coming across as childish.

            "No, I mean, I've got a boyfriend, and yeah, Bobby's sweet… but he's not Logan." Leora smiled softly, boy did that sound familiar. Leora reached out a hand, gently covering the girl's gloved ones. Rogue jumped, obviously not expecting the touch. 

            "What do you want to know about him?" she asked gently, seeming to sense that Rogue's questions weren't coming from a need to know about the relationship so much as about the Wolverine himself. 

            "How did you… I mean… he never talks about his feelings, how did you know?" Leora lifted a shoulder, the thin straps of the tank top slide down it and she didn't' bother to straighten them. 

            "I didn't, I suppose. But I just knew. You see… when I met Logan I was going through my own things," she sighed, how did she explain this to a seventeen year old? "You see, there's a place inside me that's closed off, that's been hurt so many times I won't open it up to anybody else, ever again. Don't ask me how, because I'm not even sure myself, but he's got the same problem. See, there's a place inside Logan that nobody can reach, and he likes it that way. Strangely, I think I came really close, but he pulled back. Of course," she shrugged, "so did I." 

            "You loved him?" 

            "As much as he'd let me, yes." Rogue stared at her, watching her keenly.

            "And now?" Leora shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulders.

            "I don't know. If the students are talking I'm sure you already know that we had a fight a few days ago," Rogue nodded, "I have a problem… opening up, even to myself. I don't know what I feel for anything anymore." 

            "You know how he feels about Doctor Grey?" Leora felt the beginnings of a twinge of bitterness in this girl; the red of the rose petals were tinged the tiniest bit around the edges with the beginnings of a lemon yellow, the color of corruption. Leora winced, nodding her head finally. She knew the girl wasn't trying to hurt her, but she also knew that Logan's feelings for the good Doctor had hurt Rogue, probably more than once. 

            "I know how she feels about him," and Leora suddenly realized she did. Jean felt for Logan the kind of affection people feel for friends who could be more, but never would be. She saw him as a sort of Brando-circa-The-Wild-One type of guy. Bad boy but with a heart of gold, and while Leora knew there was good in Logan, she also knew that Jean didn't know him nearly as well as she and her telekinetic mind thought she did. Leora wouldn't be surprised if Logan had pushed the limits, kissed her, shoved her against the wall with full intent on seducing her in his rough way, but Jean had tasted and turned him down flat. The woman was the type to _say_ she wanted to be bad, but never fully give into the urge, given half a chance. 

            "He's in love with her," Rogue answered, glaring at the pond, turning her head away. Leora caught the bitter flash in her eyes though, she felt for the girl, but she knew that statement wasn't quite right.

            "No, he's intrigued by her. He wants her, but he's not in love with her." 

            "How can you want someone as much as he wants her and not be in love with them?" Rogue asked finally, turning her head away from the pond to stare at Leora in astonishment. She saw the way he looked at Jean, saw the way Jean looked at him, felt the way he'd ramble about her to Rogue for hours, and completely forgetting that there was a flesh and blood woman (yes she was a woman, contrary to what everyone around here seemed to think) standing right in front of him who'd be more than willing to hold him if he'd just give her a chance. 

            "It's very simple, actually. There are a thousand different emotions, sensations, in the human body. Think about how many synonyms there are for a word like 'happy', it's endless. Logan wants her because he knows he can't have her. He'll pine for her for ages because letting go would be too easy." Now who's bitter? Leora thought quietly, she knew Logan because they were so very alike. By convincing himself he'd fallen for Jean he forgot about Leora, by knowing he could never have Jean, he punished himself for whatever multitude of sins he felt he deserved to be punished for. She knew with a  certainty that startled her that if Jean Grey should suddenly drop Scott Summers and run down the hall to the Wolverine he'd find that he didn't want her as much as he thought he did. And that was another kind of punishment in itself, wasn't it? To have a person completely devoted to you and for you yourself to want to be elsewhere? To not want to hurt them? To put up with their touches because you loved them enough to indulge them, but not to indulge yourself? She sighed, thoughts like that got her nowhere.             

            "Yeah, that sounds about right," Rogue answered, suddenly crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at something passed Leora's shoulder that she couldn't see, she wondered if the girl was recognizing something in Logan that was in herself. Leora looked at the girl in the tank top and elbow length mesh gloves, she wanted Logan with a devotion that only comes with that youthful innocence, but she could never have him. Oh, sure, he could one day go for her, but Leora realized suddenly, she could never hold him the way she wanted to. 

            "Don't hate yourself because you're different," Leora answered quietly. Rogue jumped.

            "What?" 

            "How long has it been, since you've been touched without something holding you in?" The girl shivered.

            "Years, Bobby's kissed me, but… that was different too." Leora wouldn't question that, though she was sorely tempted to. 

            "Your 'gift' is attached to your emotions, isn't it?" The girl nodded. "If you could learn to control yourself, would you?" 

            "How would I do that? I can't stop feeling…" Leora shrugged.

            "Sure you can. Anybody can turn themselves off, it just takes control," Lots of it, Leora amended silently. 

            "But would you?" Both women jumped, turning to the copse of trees, Logan walked easily around it, though Leora noted 'walk' wasn't the correct term. More like stalking. He was angry at her, she realized, his anger was like a violent red flame encompassing his body. His body was tightly controlled, each step seeming a prowl, like a wolf. "One day, kid, you'll find that you've spent so long _not_ feeling, that the thought of feeling anything is alien." Leora resisted the urge to smile; he used the word 'kid' as an endearment and she had a feeling the girl didn't like being referred to as a kid. "Could you do that?" The girl shivered, shaking her head. Logan's grin flashed briefly, quickly, "Ororo's looking for you." Rogue stood quickly, happy for the escape. She fled without a word, her dark hair trailing behind her in the air like a flag. Leora stared after her for a moment, then turned her gaze to Logan. 

            She rose slowly, then stepped back from the bench, not on the defensive, but giving herself a tiny bit of distance from that anger. He glared at her, "Well that was abrupt." She answered quietly and he made a sound low in his throat, like a growl. 

            "I'll thank you not to coach her into whatever it is you did to yourself." Leora arched an eyebrow. 

            "I did something to me?" 

            "You're the one that said you couldn't' feel anything, Leora, and now you're suggesting it to a girl who's been hurt." 

            "_I was hurt! _Look, I'm not saying it was something she should or shouldn't do, I was just suggesting it, she's been hurt because she's been starved for contact." Leora sighed, how could she explain this to him? Some people actually died from not being touched, human contact was one of the things that made people human. "She wants to be loved, Logan. You're untouchable because you want to be, she was forced into it. There's a subtle difference." 

            "Who said I wanted to be?" he challenged, they were practically nose to nose, or rather, they would be if she weren't so god-damned short. He remembered that that had been one of the things that had attracted him to her, she seemed so very fragile next to him, breakable. Leora stared up at him, the glare turning slowly into something else, something like understanding. 

            "What you told her… it wasn't a dig at me, was it?" her tone was accusatory and he simply looked at her. She sighed softly, "Logan why didn't you tell me?" 

            "Would you have believed me?" She shook her head. He wasn't angry anymore, just tired. The exhaustion fell over him like a baby blue blanket, the ends of it touching her, making her just as tired as he was. He turned abruptly, walking over to the trees and sitting down abruptly, resting his elbow on a knee, he stared up at her, almost defiantly. Leora sighed, he never just let go with his emotions, he'd show a little, then pull back, surrounding himself with years of hate so that he could fend off anything that challenged the little vulnerability that he put out there. But she knew it was there, there were times when she'd seen chinks in his armor before, when he'd lowered his defenses to tell her things, to let her see things about him that she would never have given him credit for. 

            He was hers, if she'd just take him. But she wouldn't. Leora had the same problem he did. He stared up into those ice blue eyes of hers, silently hoping that she'd slide down next to him. He remembered how forgiving her body was, the way it molded to his like it was made expressly for that purpose. Though he had a gut feeling that she was to blind to see it, or rather, she was to _willingly_ blind. He could hear her heart beating in her chest, see the way it pounded against the cotton of the tank top, she wore purple and black, the jeans so black that it was almost surreal, the top a light lilac, it showed considerably more skin that she'd shown the first day. He found he liked the change. She stared at him, her eyes flicking over his body as though she were seeing something in him that he didn't see, made him want to make sure his socks matched or something, but whatever she saw, it seemed to make her come to a decision. She walked over to him, silently reaching a hand to him, he took it, surprised, and she slide down to his body, suddenly straddling him. "You could have told me anyway." 

            His hands settled at her hips, holding her body, her scent was in his nose, getting under his skin, lavender was what it was. She tossed her hair back, those damnable straps slid down her shoulders again and this time she didn't' save them, just looked up into his eyes, her own so sad that it made him ache for her. The top had slid down her body the tiniest bit, he found that he was granted sight to the first swells of her breasts. He remembered times when he'd buried his head in that hollow, the way she'd moaned and he'd felt the vibrations of it against his lips, it was tantalizing. 

            Her hands gently cupped his cheeks, she felt the scratchy/smooth of his beard and his face, her thumbs gently rubbed the skin just beneath his eyes and he closed them for a moment. She tilted his head forward, her lips brushing his forehead. His smell invaded her senses, making her remember summer nights with the windows open, hours on his bike, going to seedy bars to play pool on crooked tables. He was motor oil and whisky with enough tinge of the outside that he was like nature itself. Logan wasn't just a man, he was primal, evoking in her the urge to do things that were more carnal than anything she'd ever done before. She sighed, his lips rested against the pulse behind her ear, she felt his breath on her neck and it made her shiver, made her squirm with feelings that she'd thought she'd forgotten. Desire, his desire, pulsed around her like black velvet, tickling her skin and making her want nothing more than to be with him, to hold him, to take him into herself until she wasn't Leora anymore, but something new entirely. 

            She held his head to the curve of her neck, looking up into the branches of the tree, her fingers slid into his hair and he shivered. The light from the afternoon sun filtered in through the leaves and she sighed in contentment. The birds chirped, the crickets twilled, and the sounds of the branches with their rustling limbs were hypnotic, lulling her into a sense of sensuality that wouldn't be denied. She closed her eyes as his lips moved against her skin, biting her lip against a whimper, she hadn't let herself be touched by a man like this sense the rape. Oh sure, she'd fucked them all but good, but gentleness had never been a part of it. She'd gone from 'making love' to full out fucking. And she liked it that way. Except with him. With Logan… this felt right. 

            He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when she let him kiss her. After the other night he was almost afraid to touch her, let alone like this. He felt guilty, that was true, and actually, all of what she'd told Marie had been true, that was the problem. He'd run from her because Leora read him better than anyone. But he couldn't stop wanting her. She got under his skin, staying their, holding on with nails in his veins, she was like some kind of a drug. She moved her hips against his, his growing erection straining underneath his jeans and he groaned low in his throat. The effect was a growl and an answering groan came from her lips as well. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. It was gratifying, but it wouldn't help much in the end. What happened out here didn't mean much at all, he knew that if this happened then she'd still look at him the same way afterward. She wouldn't let him back in to what they'd once had. Not that he deserved it anyway. 

            Her fingers slid down his chest to his jeans and thoughts were driven out of his head completely. He fell back against the tree, the big trunk against his spine, just the tiniest bit uncomfortably, but he didn't' care. This was going to happen, right now, and he wasn't going to stop it. His name was a plea on her lips and his hands slid down the back of the tank top, to the hem and then upward again, finally touching bare skin underneath it. The top slid downward completely, and he moved his hands again, palming her breasts and thanking heaven she wasn't afraid to go braless. She groaned again, her head falling to the side she looked at him through a curtain of that hair and he found that Jean was the farthest thing from his mind. Marie too for that matter. There was nothing but her eyes. Her head fell forward and her hands went to his shoulders, supporting herself. 

            His hands left her breasts, going back to her spine, tickling his way gently up her spine, his nails gently testing the skin. He knew she liked having her back scratched, the sensations against her skin were nice. She moaned this time and his hands flattened, sliding completely upward to the balls of her shoulders and grasping there. Her forehead touched his for a moment and her breath hissed through her teeth as she ground her pelvis down into his. He felt his hips buck upward and she tossed her head back, the strands of her hair tickling his fingers. His hands slid downward and her hands left his shoulders, going to the tree itself, one hand on either side of his head. She straightened, her breasts brushing the cloth of his wife beater. Something was happening.

            His nails suddenly dug into her skin, going down her shoulder blades and he felt scar tissue beneath each finger just as her body jerked hard. Her hands tightened on the tree and her eyes went completely blank. She jerked again as though hit by a bolt of lightening that had nothing to do with what they were doing, throwing back her head she let out a bloodcurdling scream. 

            He froze, staring up at her in surprise, his body going into a kind of paralysis. He knew that they would come running from the house, that odds were they'd find them exactly like this, and under normal circumstances he'd move away from her, protecting his own interests before helping her, but he found that he was afraid for her, he wasn't moving until he knew what the hell was going on. 

            "_What the fuck?!"_  Logan's body clenched and he turned his head, he found he couldn't move anyway, her body was frozen in the same position above his and he couldn't move her on his own. He didn't have to have Summers remove those glasses of his without knowing that disgust was evident on the boy's face. He probably thought Logan was raping her. _"Get off of her!" _

Get off of _her? Oh that was rich. _

            Before Logan could reply Leora shivered in his arms, her body going suddenly limp, she collapsed against him. He used the opportunity to straighten, choosing to ignore the group of boys that followed Summers from the basketball court even though they were getting a really good view of Leora's bare breasts, holding her in his arms he eased her backward. She was still straddling him but he was cradling her head, trying to get her to look him in the eye. She opened her eyes to slits, exhaustion making her slur her words. "I know what's going to happen." 

            And then she was unconscious. 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Bring me to Life Chapter Four

Author's Notes: *sigh* this story just wants to be written! It seems like I can't sit down without finishing a chapter. (not that I'm complaining) but I fully appreciate the reviews that everybody's been giving, they're great. Anything particularly you want to see happen? Anything I need to fix? That said, I hope ya'll enjoy!

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_            She was walking through the woods, __Logan__'s hand twined with hers, her head gently on his shoulder. She knew that there was something she was supposed to be doing, but she couldn't remember what it was. Her head was spinning with his scent so close, his aura pulsing around her, against her, making her remember things. There was a crash from somewhere in the woods and she winced, "We shouldn't be here like this," she said softly. He chuckled._

_            "Like what, darlin'? We can do anything we damn well please here, it's after hours, all the kiddies are abed, so who cares?" she sighed, he didn't understand. She lifted her head from his shoulder, staring up into his eyes, why had she thought that she should fight this? Something sweet was filling her, making her want to let him take her. _

_            "I love you, Logan," He grinned, lips pulling back to flash teeth._

_            "I love you too, darlin'," and then he was kissing her and it was all okay. She closed her eyes, threading her fingers through his hair, holding his head to her. She realized in some distant part of her mind that he was lowering her to the ground and she let him, opening her legs for him, welcoming his heat, his passion, welcoming it because she needed to feel again. His scent was everything around her, in the leaves beneath her body, even in her hair, but it was tinged with something else that she hadn't noticed before. Smoke. Burning. _

_            She turned her head as his lips traveled down her jaw and opened her eyes slowly, taking in the grass next to her ear, and then she froze. Scott was staring sightlessly into her eyes. She had a moment of unreality, he shouldn't be here if she was with __Logan__… but that wasn't all. She was seeing Scott's **eyes**, that was wrong somehow. Then she remembered, he wore the glasses, she'd never seen his eyes without the protection of a pair of lenses, his eyes were brown, so very brown, like mahogany, or something darker. But how could she see his eyes?_

_            Logan was still kissing her, unaware, his lips traveling down her neck and then still farther down, his lips closing over her nipple as she let her eyes travel down Scott's body. There was something else about it that bothered her, then she realized he was naked from the waist up, she should have seen smooth skin, muscles, but his chest was split completely open, organs spilling on the ground, the smell of smoke was laced with a tangy/sweet, like an accidentally bitten tongue. Blood was everywhere. She realized that it was on her hands where they'd slid through the grasses, it was on her bare skin where __Logan__'s hands had slid through them and onto her skin. Her eyes slid through the trees, Jean spread-eagled between two, her arms tied, her guts spilling down her pants suit. She saw a shock of white hair off around a tree and knew it was Ororo, but there was someone missing. Where was she? _

_            The Wolverine was happily oblivious, his body grinding into hers and as much as she knew she should be investigating the grisly scene behind his shoulder, she couldn't bring herself to shove him away. He was touching her, and that was all that mattered. His suckling lips played with the long necklace she wore, the pendant nestled between her breasts and glittering in the moonlight with a metallic shine. She groaned loudly, "God, Logan!" She hadn't imagined it'd be this good. _

_            A muffled scream split the night and she shivered in his arms, tightening her hold on his shoulders. He continued to drive himself into her and she ignored the woman against the tree, her dyed red hair gleaming in the moonlight. The woman stared at her in a way that said she knew this would happen, the hurt filling eyes that had sworn they couldn't feel as another man, an older man, did what __Logan__ was doing to her. Only the woman wasn't welcoming it. She was begging him to stop. The man turned to the two figures in the grass, by now her body was covered in Scott's blood, Jean's blood, all of them probably, but she couldn't care. The only thing in this whole cursed place that she cared about was driving himself and her dangerously close to climax. _

_            The man with the shock of white hair and a strange red helmet released the woman and she slid slowly down the trunk of the tree, crying softly, rocking gently as her arms circled her body. He walked slowly toward the couple, his gloved left hand raised palm up, it was a commanding gesture and she felt a weight seem to lift from her chest. She looked down and watched in fascinated horror as the necklace rose in the air, rising until its chain was pulled tight. Logan continued his thrusting but she had stopped beneath him, the pendant held on the chain for countless seconds that seemed like an eternity before the man smiled a sadistic grin that said so very much about his nature, and the necklace was ripped from her neck, eliciting a cry from her body as the pendant flew through the air to land harmlessly in the man's palm._

_            There was no change in the scene for a moment until she felt a sensation like another kind of strong tugging, only this was coming from her head, not her skin. She looked up, into the Wolverine's surprised eyes and then there was a violent shifting in the air around them. His face crumbled in pain and he screamed wordlessly, the veins in his neck standing out as he struggled against her power. She felt him filling her body, his essence joining hers, his thoughts filling her head. She unwillingly orgasmed then, coming with a feeling like a tidal wave as he collapsed against her, a lifeless husk, and her eyes were trapped staring at the white haired stranger. Who suddenly wasn't so strange at all. The man smirked, telling her she'd gotten what she wanted and then a voice flooded her head. _

_            Professor was going to be so very angry when he found out, except he already knew, the professor had been the first one they'd taken out. The others had come after, and then of course he'd gotten to the woman that __Logan__ loved. And she'd been expected to keep him occupied. He'd given her the necklace for a price, to keep the Wolverine distracted. And she had. And it killed him. It was Xavier's voice in her head._

_            ***Why, Marie?***_

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            Leora sat bolt upright with a sound like a scream in the back of her throat. She breathed deeply, gasping air into her lungs. The windows were dark, she knew it was very late. Sitting next to the bed was the professor, his eyes saying he knew exactly what she'd seen, she turned her head to the other side and there was Logan, sitting on the edge of the bed, his body tense. She shivered violently, reaching for him, the plea on her lips not voiced as he took the silent invitation, dragging her into his arms. He rocked her gently, whispering nonsense to sooth her and not realizing she was completely dry eyed, just holding tight to his body and trying like hell to erase the images in her mind. 

            This time was different than the others, she had been her, but not her. As a matter of fact she'd seen her own body at the edge of the clearing, being raped again. And the body that she was in… she wanted to refuse to believe that Rogue would do something like what she'd seen. But she'd never been wrong before. She knew the girl had wanted Logan, knew she was in love with him, but had never even guessed, seeing her aura colors as she had, that Rogue would allow herself to be sucked into a plot like that. Xavier was talking, outlining as much of the premonition as he needed to, but Leora noticed he went no more into specifics other than to say that Leora had seen the school fall to a man named Erik, that the X-men were dead, the only survivor being Rogue, and there had been nothing they could do to stop it. Leora looked over Logan's shoulder, Jean Grey was visibly pale, and Leora wondered how much the woman had seen as well. Rogue was nowhere in sight, but Scott was sitting in a wing backed chair, his hair brushed back from his face, Ororo in a corner, concern all over her face. 

            Logan's arms tightened on Leora and she winced, making a negating sound in her throat. He released her immediately, "Are you alright?" His voice growled through her bloodstream and she shook her head, sliding back onto the bed so that her back was against the cherry oak headboard. He made a move as though to follow her, and she shook her head, holding up a hand to stave him back. She couldn't' let him touch her just now. She'd been inside the girl's head, she'd had the thoughts the girl had had, and the lust tinged with something very akin to hatred made Leora's skin crawl. She had misjudged, she'd seen the corruption in Marie's aura, but she had assumed that it was simple bitterness, maybe jealousy, but not the murderous hatred at anyone who'd ever touched Logan that Leora had felt in the premonition.

            "Do you have any idea when it will happen?" Leora shook her head, staring levelly at Scott.

            "No," she answered slowly, she wouldn't be able to go into everything with Logan sitting there watching her, he wouldn't believe a word against Rogue, he loved her like a daughter that much was obvious. "It could be years, it could be days."         

            "Is there any way to get specifics other than what you saw?" Ororo asked, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. Leora shook her head.

            "No. I have the premonition, that's it. If I could control it better, then maybe, but no, I only have what I experienced." Leora realized she was in her room, she cast around for a blanket without having to take the one on the made bed and grabbed a hooded jacket that she'd thrown carelessly on the bedside table the night before. Pulling it on her shoulders she wrapped her upper body in it, feeling suddenly years younger, a child. 

            "Alright, what _exactly_ did you see?" Logan asked, looking from her to the professor and back and knowing for damn certain that they weren't telling the whole story. Leora sighed, bone deep, she'd have to be careful with this. Logan always knew when she was lying to him, or hiding something for that matter.

            "I…," she took a cup of tea from the bedside table. The professor had had a tea service brought up, probably for anybody who wanted it and Leora silently thanked him for being British and a tea-addict. He smiled knowingly, letting her have the distraction of the tea for a moment. Logan looked at Leora keenly, knowing exactly what she was doing.

            "Just say it, Leora, straight out." Leora sighed again, taking a long sip of the brown substance from the delicate china.

            "I was in the woods, walking with you," she said the last part softly, but his head came up, his eyes smoldering suddenly. "I could smell the burning but it didn't really register, I was too caught up in you." She looked him in the eye as she said this, looking at no one else in the room, maybe for shame, maybe because this was a very intimate memory. "We were… talking, and it turned into something else entirely. I was in the grass and I saw Scott, then Jean, then Ororo, then…" she sighed, this is where it got tricky, "then I saw me." Logan's eyebrows came together, his forehead furrowed.

            "You saw you?" She nodded.

            "I was me, but I wasn't, for this one I was inside somebody else's head. I was experiencing it like it was me, but I realized it wasn't me when I saw my body against another tree." 

            "Who was it?" Ororo asked, Leora couldn't see her past Logan's body, he'd moved so he was inches away from her on the bed, a hand fisted and shoved into the bedding on the opposite side of her body, effectively making himself the only thing in her field of vision. 

            "I…"

            "It doesn't matter," the professor broke in, "what matters, is that someone will come to be with Logan, and it will be the downfall of the school." 

            "Not if I don't want it to be," Wolverine put in doggedly. Leora sighed.

            "You were just as into the act as this other, Logan. From what I could see you wanted it just as much as she did, hell, you initiated it." He cocked an eyebrow at her, incredulous and just the tiniest bit angry at her for telling him he wouldn't be in control of his emotions. 

            "I initiated sex with a bunch of dead bodies lying around?" Leora just looked at him, she knew him, if Logan wanted something, Logan wanted something and the surroundings be damned. 

            "To be honest, I'm not sure if you even realized that there _were_ a bunch of dead bodies lying around."

            "But how would he be that oblivious?" Leora shrugged.

            "I'm not sure, actually. Drugs, maybe? But he was too coherent for that. I don't know." 

            "Could it have been two instances gelled together?" Leora looked past Logan's shoulder to Jean.       

            "What?" 

            "Well… think of it like two images on top of each other. Logan and this… other person together in the woods, obviously she's responsible in some way for what happened to the school, maybe you were getting an image of what would happen to us as well as what happened to _let_ it happen, if that makes any sense." 

            "That would explain why neither of them seemed to mind…" Ororo put in slowly, though Leora could tell she was getting excited. Leora wondered if the woman was the type to like mind games, or mysteries. 

            "Maybe, but like I said, there's no way to know for sure. The only way to know for sure is to wait and let it happen." 

            "Which we're not going to do," Scott said definitively, clenching his hands on the chair. 

            "Alright, so we know Magneto wants to bring down the school and he'll do anything to let it happen," the professor put in, bringing them all back to the matter at hand.

            "But we don't know why," Jean interjected.

            "Or when or how," Logan answered, his gaze never leaving Leora's. She shivered.

            "It was obviously some one that felt close to you," She answered gently, trying to prepare him a little bit. "She was in love with you, and she wanted you to feel the same for her…" 

            "Oh yeah, then that definitely wasn't you," he answered bitterly and Leora had to look away, a hot retort on her lips, but that wasn't all. That comment cut deep and he knew it. 

            "She was willing to do anything, don't you see? That necklace is the key; there was something about it… it made her… I don't know. But once it was off, then everything went crazy," she looked to the professor for help, he shot a long look at Logan. 

            "The loss of the necklace brought the Wolverine's death, the life was sucked out of him." Ororo took a deep breath and Scott sat up a little straighter. Logan shrugged, either not wanting to understand, or being purposely difficult. 

            "So it's another mutant," Scott put in, Leora nodded. 

            "She was… angry. As much as she was into the moment, she was bitter too. She saw the bodies, the people she knew he was close to, and while she felt a little guilt, it was almost defiance that wouldn't let her stop," Leora answered, furrowing her brow and trying hard not to come right out and say 'Rogue's psycho, somebody lock her up'.

            "Marie wouldn't do something like that." Logan answered finally, rising from the bed and pacing angrily in front of a window. Leora bit her lip, she was tempted to say that they'd never said Rogue's name, but she wouldn't, it would be too much like a lie, and he deserved to know what was going to happen. 

            "How do you know, Logan?" He turned, glaring at her.

            "I know her, okay Leora? She's not the type to go ape-shit over a guy, especially me. Hell, I knew she had a thing for me, but she loves it here. She wouldn't let anything happen to this place." Leora arched an eyebrow. 

            "I think you're underestimating the emotions of a seventeen year old girl. You have no idea what it's like to be a girl that age, Logan, and not only does she have a lot to deal with already but she's gone years without touching somebody else. She's completely closed off!"

            "She has a boyfriend!" He growled angrily, the others in the room were silent, watching the exchange almost like one would a tennis match. Leora placed the saucer on the bedside table, going to her knees on the bed so that she was looking down at him, the bed was tall, one of those middle English deals with way to much woodwork. 

            "So? She's known you longer, she looks up to you with a sort of blind hero worship." Leora stopped, "How much of that conversation did you overhear this afternoon?" If he'd heard it from Marie's lips then it would make this so much easier. He sighed in defeat.

            "She loves me, I know that Leora, and I feel bad about that, but what the fuck do you want me to do? Go down the hall and tell her that no matter what happens I'll never go for her? I doubt that'll help matters." 

            "Maybe the professor could talk to her?" Storm answered cautiously, trying to relieve some of the tension in the room. Xavier sighed.

            "I could, but if she doesn't want help, or doesn't believe she has a problem, then it'll be next to impossible." 

            "Besides, who's gonna want to believe that they'll accept help in the romance department from the guy that tried to kill them?" Summers answered, rolling his neck and popping it with a low crack. Leora arched an eyebrow, that sounded like a story, but she wouldn't push it yet. 

            "Marie loves Jean and Ororo, she wouldn't' do anything to hurt them." Leora wondered if Logan were truly that in denial or if he were just being purposely difficult. 

            "You're right, she does. Which makes it the bigger weakness, if I hate someone, then I hate them. But if I love them then I ignore the anger, the jealousy, until it builds and builds and just breaks out. Afterward I'll feel horrible, but in the moment those hurt feelings are amplified, these are people I love, how dare they hurt me like this? Do you follow?" Jean nodded, she knew Leora was right, her mind was working quickly. 

            "Professor, wouldn't you be able to tell if Magneto were on the grounds?" 

            "He didn't have to come himself, and he could have gotten to her when she left, assuming he's gone to her already." Xavier answered, wiping a hand over his face. 

            "And assuming she'd let him anywhere near her." Leora rolled her eyes, shooting Wolverine a long look. 

            "There's a lot of hurt in that girl, Logan. I don't think you realize even a fraction of how much. If he came to her when she was at her most vulnerable, maybe a moment of depression, and offered her a way to make the pain stop, not only that but to be able to touch again without fear of 'sucking somebody's mind out', who's to say she wouldn't fall for it?" He sighed, slumping against the wall in defeat, his arms crossed over his chest. Leora got up, sliding off the bed unbidden. The room watched in silence as she walked the span of three feet from the bed to stand in front of him, her hands reached up, going to either side of his neck. "I know how this hurts you, you've always thought you were protecting her, but there's nothing to be done if the person she needs protection from is the person that she needs the most. This is _not_ your fault." 

            He smiled softly, a little bit of the glint going back into his eyes. Leora felt a bit of relief at that, if he could look at her like that then he wasn't as wounded as she had thought. "I know, darlin'," his head lowered and he brushed her lips quickly before she had time to step back or stop him, "I don't need you to chase the demons away baby." His own hands cradled her head, pulling her against his body, "I've done enough of that myself." His arms wrapped around her body and she let him hold her, knowing that contrary to whatever it was he was telling himself, he did need her. Or if not her, someone else to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay because he was tearing himself up over this. He may be hiding it well, but she knew he was being eaten up on the inside, wondering if he'd encouraged the girl in any way, if he should have left completely, never come back or whatever. He looked at the professor over Leora's head, "I think we should have a talk with Marie, soon." 

            Xavier nodded, saying something about leaving. He hit a switch on his chair and left the room as silently as the gears in the chair would allow, Scott and Jean on his heels. Ororo stared silently at the couple in the corner, the way he stared down the length of her body, the way she clung to him, it was a private moment and the woman smiled gently, Leora may swear up and down that she felt nothing, but it was very obvious that whatever she did feel, she felt for the Wolverine. Storm left the room, shutting the door quietly on her way out. 

            Leora was silent in his arms, her cheek to his chest. She could hear his heart beating under her ear, strong and sure, but it was racing. She lifted her head, staring up into his eyes. "Logan-" 

            "Don't, Leora." His arms tightened around her and his fingers convulsed on her skin. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes and he touched his lips to her hair. "Don't send me away tonight," he finished quietly and she felt a surge of something flow through her. She bit her lip, she wanted him, and he wanted her that should be the end of it. Staring up into his eyes she could feel his passion, the same deep, deep burgundy that she'd seen in Rogue, but with Logan it was laced with something darker, something that ran ever deeper, tingeing the burgundy with something even bleaker. There was savageness in him that frightened her, had always frightened her, but there was gentleness in him too. The darkness was need, she knew that. But the amount frightened her. When did his feelings become so intense that he didn't just want her? That he needed to be with her with such a yearning? 

            She stepped back from him, shrugging out of the jacket and letting it fall to the floor. He needed her, and in fact, she needed him. The only time she ever truly felt anything was in his arms. If she could give him something, if she could make the pain in his eyes go away, even for a moment, she'd give him that. But she couldn't' promise any more than that. She caught his wrists, pulling him gently with her until her back reached the bed. "It's just tonight," she warned softly and he nodded, he understood. 

            He didn't have to like it, but he understood. Logan stared down at her with a mixture of pain and disbelief. How could she deny that there was something between them? Jesus, the spark was enough to send four grown mutants from the room so that they could fuck. He laughed silently to himself, because nobody in the room had been fooled, they all knew as soon as they were alone, this was exactly what was going to happen. He sighed; he hated feeling like he needed somebody, like he was indebted to somebody. That had been one of the reasons he'd left her in the first place, and here he was begging _her_ not to leave _him_. He felt cornered, and under normal circumstances he'd just up and leave, find the first pretty blonde in a bar and fuck the life out of her, but he couldn't. Now he felt like the world was crashing down, he'd heard them talking that afternoon; he hadn't realized exactly how attached Marie was. He mentally berated himself, how many times had he gone to her to listen? To bitch about the day when she knew damn well he was lamenting that Scott and Jean were still together. He felt like a spoiled, selfish child. Leora stared up at him silently, then sighed, stepping back from him completely.     

            "Not like this," she murmured softly, at the question in his eyes she glared. "I'm not going to be a distraction, Logan. If you want to be with me, then fine. But don't say you need me when what you really need is something to get your mind off _her_." Leora stared up at him, praying he'd deny what she'd accused him of. Praying that he'd take her in his arms and say that he needed her because she was Leora, not because she was a warm body who happened to know his moods. He didn't answer her for a moment, then punctuated the silence with an abrupt sigh. Passing a hand over his face he growled low in his throat, the moment completely shattered. 

            "Fine. Goodnight, Leora." She stared at him in surprise, she hadn't expected him to leave. Or hell, to basically admit that he was using her. He turned on his heel, stalking toward the door. He jerked it open, stopping on his way out to turn and look at her one last time. "I know exactly what I want, Leora. But when you figure out your terms, let me know." 

            The door slammed shut after him. 

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            It was three in the morning and Leora couldn't sleep. She got up finally, sliding out of the bed and glaring at the digital clock on her bedside. Who was he to tell her that she didn't know what she wanted? Of course she knew what she wanted. Or did she? Leora rolled her eyes, pulling a loose satin robe over the long silk nightgown. It had a slit up her left thigh and was black, accentuating her milky smooth skin and hair, off setting her eyes, it made her look good and she knew it. She sighed, it was late, there was no one awake, so she forwent putting on real clothes and padded lightly out of the room. Staring at Logan's door for a minute she snorted, stalking the rest of the way down the hall and then down the stairs. 

            She ended up in the observatory on the south side of the house. It was beautiful with the full moon casting an eerie glow over everything, the plants seeming surreal in the light. She shut the doors behind her, going completely in and staring out the windows, it also had a fabulous view of the lawn and then the lake beyond. 

            "Good evening, Leora, or rather, morning." Leora jumped, she'd gone completely into the room, ending a few feet from the windows, turning she saw that she'd completely missed the professor, watching her quietly from one of the tables, a chess board next to his elbow. 

            "I'm sorry, professor, did you want to be alone?" She asked politely, really wanting to go find somewhere else to be alone. 

            "No, child, not at all. Is everything alright?" She sighed, that question was rather redundant, he knew for damn sure that everything was most certainly _not_ alright.

            "No," she answered softly, walking to the table and taking the seat opposite him. "I don't know what he wants from me," she finished finally. Staring glumly at the chessboard she ran a hand through her hair. 

            "I think you do." Leora snapped her head up, looking into the professor's keen eyes. She laughed, self deprecatingly.

            "Yes, I suppose I do. But I can't give him that, I tried before." 

            "What…exactly happened, Leora?" 

            "He left. I came home one day to an empty house, his things were gone," she sighed, "I was upset, I went out looking for him, hoping to convince him to stay, beg if I had to. I ended up at a really seedy bar, one that I knew he liked." 

            "And you were raped," he said gently, a question of sorts, watching her and wondering if she'd refute the information. She nodded, making a sound to the affirmative in her throat. 

            "Mmm-hmm, I left, for some reason I ended up in the back alley, I cant' remember why. I woke up in the hospital." 

            "So you blame the Wolverine for what happened to you?"

            "No, of course not." The professor raised an eye brow and Leora sighed. "Maybe, at first I just kept hoping he'd come back, like he'd know somehow and come for me, make everything okay again. But he never came. And it got harder and harder to go through every day hurting that much. It seemed like every day he didn't' show up was just another day for me to hurt. So one day I just… shut down. I wouldn't let anything touch me, and it worked. Suddenly I didn't hurt anymore. But I couldn't feel anything else either, I was pretty apathetic. And I didn't care."

            "But then you came here," Xavier prodded gently when she was silent for a stretch and she nodded, lacing her hands on the table. 

            "And then he was there and it seemed like in that _second_… every wall I'd so carefully constructed around myself came tumbling down. He gets to me, he was always able to, but now it seems like its worse. He can make me so angry with just a look, or hurt." She looked at Xavier, suddenly very serious, "I promised myself in the hospital that I'd never let myself be hurt like that again. By any man. So you see I can't just sit back and let him waltz in, make me fall for him all over again and then waltz right back out again. I don't think I could lose him twice in the same lifetime."  

            "Some would say…" the professor began slowly, "that love carries no guarantees, that the only way to feel anything is to allow yourself that hurt." He looked at her, "You have the gift of seeing the emotions of others at a glance. Would you deny that there are thousands of them?" Leora shook her head, of course not, "then why deny yourself the chance to experience them all simply because you're afraid of one?" 

            "What are you telling me, professor?" He sighed.

            "I'm telling you, child, to go back upstairs. See where you end up." Leora rose slowly, her mind spinning.

            "Thank you, professor." He nodded.

            "Calm down, Leora, don't decide right now what will happen. Just allow yourself to be." 

            "Be what?" He smiled.

            "Anything." 

            Leora sighed, defeated, she walked back out of the observatory. She mounted the stairs, turning what the professor had told her over and over in her mind. She wanted Logan with a  passion that frightened her. He wanted her just as much. She needed Logan so much that sometimes she had to remind herself to breathe. But if she allowed him back inside her defenses, would there be anything left if he should decide to leave again? She found herself back on her hallway, she walked silently passed door after door, then ended up in front of her own. If she went left, if she opened _that_ door, she'd be safe and sound inside four strong walls of protection. If she went _right_, then she'd be where she wanted to be, with him. She bit her lip, mentally debating. Then remembering the professor's words she closed her eyes, shaking her head to clear it. 

            Seconds later she opened the door. 


	5. Chapter Five

Title: Bring me to Life Chapter Five

Author's Notes: Hope ya'll enjoy!

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            Leora walked through the door, the knob turning easily under her fingers; the darkness from inside the room enveloped her immediately. She walked silently inside, cursing whoever let the drapes shut so that the moonlight was all but blocked out. A sharp 'snick' sound, followed by the room suddenly being flooded with the light from a bedside table made her jump, her hands going immediately to her neck and waist, a defensive gesture. She stared silently into the Wolverine's hard eyes, he sat up in the bed, shirtless, the blankets pooled around his waist and she sucked in her breath, she'd forgotten about that chest. He was silent, it was obvious that she'd woken him up, probably as soon as she'd turned the knob, but he wasn't saying a word, and to be honest after the way she'd kicked him out of her room earlier she didn't blame him. 

            She looked at him quietly, her hands straying to the loose knot that held the robe in place. Watching his face, she untied the knot, letting the belt fall to her sides, then, taking the edges of the robe in her hands she gently parted the folds, shrugging the tiniest bit so that the two halves fell from her shoulders. Holding the satin in place at her elbows, Leora took a slow step forward, then stopped when she was beside the foot of the bed. The robe slid from her body to puddle in the floor, and suddenly she was clad only in a very skimpy, very revealing nightgown. Logan's eyes raked over her body, none to gently, his eyes catching on her breasts, on the nipples she knew were hard already. She smiled softly, dipping her head and letting her hair fall into her face. 

            He opened his mouth, then closed it, swallowing before speaking, "What do you want, Leora?" She winced, that hurt and he knew it. 

            "I should think it would be painfully obvious," she answered, showing nothing on the outside of how he'd cut her. He arched an eyebrow. 

            "Well, under normal circumstances then yes… but I'd hate to think I was using you as a _distraction_." She sighed, walking completely to his side on the bed. Reaching up she placed a hand on his chest, sliding it through the furry mat and clenching it when the gesture brought back a flood of memories. 

            "I was wrong, Logan," Leora answered softly. He simply stared at her, silent, calculating. "I wanted you, in that room. I wanted you so much it scared me. But I couldn't handle the thought that maybe you only wanted me because you were hurting." She looked up into his eyes, her own suddenly pleading, "I wanted you to tell me I was wrong,  that you wanted me too, and when you didn't…" she sighed, "I'm sorry." 

            "And now?" His eyes were keen, he was watching her, assessing her, he'd always been able to tell when she was lying. She stared into his eyes, letting him know she was telling the truth. 

            "Now? I can't stop wanting you. I tried, I convinced myself it would be… better, if I stayed away, if I sent _you_ away. But that doesn't work anymore." She brought her hands up to the straps of the ankle length nightgown. Staring him straight in the face, she forced them over her shoulders, the gown fell downward, catching on her breasts momentarily and then ever downward, stopping at her waist. She looked at him, pleading with him silently to pull her into the bed with him. 

            He didn't say anything, but he didn't send her out of the room either. She reached for the hand that sat on his leg, turning it palm up. She traced the lines there, and then brought it up slowly, gently, to her chest. His breath caught in his throat and he swallowed again. Leora held his hand to where her heart was racing in her chest. "I need you, Logan," she whispered softly, "I don't think I can go another night with you this close and not have you touch me. Please…" His fingers flattened against her skin and she felt her breath catch in her chest. His hand slid slowly up her chest, his fingers stroking up her neck to cup her head. He guided her head gently to his lips, taking her mouth in a long, slow kiss. 

            She pulled away from his lips, her hands sliding the dress over her hips to puddle in the floor. Suddenly standing before him completely naked and defenseless, she felt her body constrict at the vulnerability, but staring up into his eyes, she found that she wasn't afraid. He threw the covers back, exposing his body, he slept nude, it was a habit he'd passed on to her after the first few weeks of their relationship. 

            She smiled up at him slowly, placing her foot on the bed frame and climbing up into the bed. Rising over him for a moment, she ended on her knees, straddling his body. He stared up at her, truthfully a bit breathless. She stayed that way, above him, her breasts at his eye level and he slowly reached up, cupping them in his hands, molding them. She arched her back the tiniest bit, letting out a low gasp as his thumbs brushed her nipples. His hands spanned the skin underneath the curves of her breasts, his fingers sliding down over her ribs and then to her waist, his thumbs trailing to her belly button, gently putting pressure on either side of it and then his hands trailing ever downward. They caught on her hips, staying, then sliding backward to her buttocks, squeezing the tiniest bit and making her arch toward him. Her hands went behind her back, closing over his hands and holding them there, she stared down into his eyes, a smile taking her lips back. 

            He cocked an eyebrow, dipping his head forward to place his lips in a chaste kiss on the valley between her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat and he smiled against her skin, opening his mouth and kissing her in earnest, his lips making her shiver as he lavished attention on first one breast and then the other. Leora's hands snaked up his forearms, then his shoulders, finding his head and twining themselves in his hair. She gently pulled his head back, her upper body dipping forward so that she could savage his lips. Her tongue danced with his, moving with it, creating a seduction so very like the act it mimicked that she felt a rush of something pool to her loins. 

            Leora's body was starting to shake, nothing more than a fine trembling in her muscles but he felt it and he felt his own wave of pleasure that he could still make her as weak as she made him. She eased her body down, sitting on his lap, his erection between them. She sighed, putting her head on his shoulder, one hand wrapping upward to grasp his neck, the other furrowed in his chest. Logan stared down at her cherry-black hair, his hand coming up to caress her hair, she shook in his arms. His other hand trailed down her back, finding the scars on her shoulder blades again. He furrowed his brow, his hand flattening, he was right, one for each finger, like fingernails. "Leora…?" She sighed.

            "They happened that night, I don't remember how," she lifted her head to look him in the eye. "Let's not talk about it," she paused, looking down and then back up into his eyes again, her own eyes suddenly with a sheen like glass, tears yet to spill, "Could you just be kissing me right now?" 

            He grinned, though the look in his eyes was rather bittersweet, his hands going to immediately cup her face, angling it the tiniest bit up ward he took her lips, this time more gently, savoring. He knew there had been others for her, since that night, Logan knew that she'd probably changed completely from the girl he'd known to a woman. Seductress, rather. He saw the way she looked at him now, the way she seemed to know how to touch him, not like a lover who knows what their partner wants (though that was certainly there as well) but as a woman, who knew what men liked. Part of him ached that she had to lose that innocence. 

            His feelings for her had always been complex, one minute like a man in love, the next like a wolf protecting it's cub, he was savage to the people who so much as looked at her crossly, but to _her _he could be rude as all hell and be fine with it. To be honest their relationship had been no picnic, they fought constantly, often one of them picking fights simply for the sheer enjoyment of the verbal exchange, and then the making up was just as fun, he'd been surprised that first night. She'd been a wide eyed innocent, she'd had sex but it was obvious it was just that, sex with boys who didn't know what they were doing, after the first time, or rather, sometime in the middle of the first time, she'd changed into a kind of nymph. Her body was so much smaller than his, it still amazed him that this sylph of a girl who barely grazed his shoulder could make him do things he swore he'd never do again. Feel, for instance. Care, for another. 

            Leora kissed him, her eyes closed, letting the feel of his lips on hers, the image of his emotions in her mind's eye, the memories, all of it wash over her in a huge wave. She felt herself being eased to the side, she put a hand to the mattress, her fingers sliding over the silk of the sheets, it bunched a bit, but she didn't care. She slid her body away from his, lying back on the bed completely, her hand sliding under the pillow. He rolled on his side, then over, rising above her even as he broke the kiss. She opened her eyes, staring up at him with complete trust, lust tingeing her look more than a little and he smirked, nudging her nose with his own then kissing her lips briefly. She eased her legs apart for him, he rested his weight on his forearms, one on either side of her head. 

            Logan's body slid down the length of hers, his hips resting between her thighs and she groaned, low in her throat. He gently nipped the hollow of her collar bone and she jumped, her body going against his briefly and then settling back down on the bed. He chuckled softly and she smiled up at him, "What?" He shook his head, nipping her lips this time. She could feel him at her opening, feel the way he was purposely holding himself back. She trailed her hands down his back, feeling the muscle play she slid her fingers down his lower spine and then gently took his hips in her hands, guiding them toward her, urging him. 

            He took the silent invitation, the plea in her eyes changing to a sharp intake of breath on her lips and he held completely still for a moment, letting her get used to the feel of him again. He watched her close her eyes, watched the way she drew her lower lip into her mouth to bite sharply with her teeth. She was silent for a time, her eyes closed tightly against his gaze. He watched as a tear slid out from beneath the lashes on her left eye, he bent his head forward, a fine trembling beginning in his own body now. Only this was brought because of his need for control, his silently commanding his body to hold still and not take his fill of her now. Wolverine's lips brushed her cheek, taking the salty tear and then going to her ear. "Do you want me to stop?" He asked softly, his voice a rumble in his throat. 

            She opened her eyes in surprise, shaking her head, her hands going to his face, drawing him back so that she was looking him in the eye. "No, don't stop, I…" she closed her eyes again, opening them to stare up into his and biting her lip again. She lifted a shoulder against the mattress. "It's just that it's been so long, I never thought I'd feel this again." He lifted a corner of his mouth wryly, then took her lips as he moved inside her. Leora gasped, immediately wrapping a leg around his waist, her foot against the back of his thighs. He lifted an arm, sliding it down her body and taking her other thigh, urging it to wrap around his waist as well and she let him, her ankles hooking just below his buttocks, keeping with the tempo he set she matched him thrust for thrust, her arms going to wrap around his neck she held his body to her, knowing a part of the pleasure came from the deprivation as he moved in and then out again. 

            She felt her body tightening and Leora bit back a scream, holding in the sound the closer she came to climax. He kissed the column of her neck, then her jaw, quickening his pace as he came close to his own orgasm. Logan rested his forehead in the hollow of her neck, forcing his body into hers, making them one, taking her with him as the pleasure heightened, until he wasn't sure when he left off and she began, when he spilled inside her and she milked him, her inner muscles clenching around his organ and he squeezed his eyes shut, his pleasure ripping through his body like white lightening. Her cries were harsh, punctuated with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, his own hoarse moans cutting off as well. When she came, the waves crashing around her as she clung to his body like she had so many times before, she wailed, his name a plea on her lips as she tried to find relief in his arms. 

            Afterward, he collapsed against her, to spent to try and save her the weight of his body. Leora made a sound in her throat and he rolled, pulling her with him so that she was pillowed against him. They were a sweaty mess in the silk sheets, the blankets shoved to the end of the bed, falling off the sides, but he couldn't' seem to care. Leora's eyes were beginning to close, her skin was rosy, the flush after sex that he so remembered. She raised her head to look him in the eye, "I missed you," she said softly, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and Logan smiled, turning his head to kiss the palm of her hand.

            "I know, me too, darlin'." 

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            Leora came awake slowly, opening her eyes to the room and stretching luxuriously, her fingers curling in the sheets like a cat. She was on her side, a warm body against her back, turning her head she found herself staring into the Wolverine's eyes, just now darkened with pleasure. "What time is it?" She asked softly, not wanting to break the languor that had enveloped them. 

            "Sometime in the afternoon, three-ish, maybe." He rested his head on the heel of his hand, wrapping his other arm more securely around her midsection and holding her tighter against him. She made a face at the time and he cocked an eyebrow.

            "I missed a meeting with the professor and Jean this morning," she answered softly, rolling her eyes and biting back a grin, "but something tells me he expected it." Logan's look didn't change and she shrugged. "We had an interesting chat last night." 

            "Oh? Talk about anything interesting?" She grinned.

            "Just my obsession with Jean-Luc Picard." 

            "The guy from Star Trek?" Leora nodded, feigning innocence and making an affirmative sound in her throat. He lifted the hand at her waist, allowing her to turn over so that she was facing him, mirroring his pose. Logan lifted his hand, cupping her face and she smiled, kissing the thumb that brushed over her lips. 

            "Be careful, a girl could get used to this kind of treatment," she warned, feigning snobbishness and he grinned, dipping his head to kiss her. 

            "Don't tempt me," he muttered, pulling away and letting his hand trail over her side, drawing patterns in her skin with his fingers. Leora arched an eyebrow, but didn't comment, choosing instead to change the subject to something safer.

            "How long have you been awake?" 

            "Not long, an hour, maybe." She smiled.

            "Watching me sleep?" At his nod she felt something twill in her stomach, "Doesn't sound like a very interesting time," she answered, trying to make light. He shrugged.

            "You've never seen you sleep." She looked down at the sheet, thrown carelessly over his body, but wrapped more securely over her own, she didn't remember wrapping up last night, but odds were he'd done it for her. Logan was like that, remembering little things like that, tender things that made her want to never let him stop kissing her, or run in the complete opposite direction. She knew he wasn't nearly as indifferent as he said he was. She reached up, cupping the side of his face, a gesture that said so much and so very little that he almost commented on it. But she beat him to it.

            "I can feel it, Logan." 

            "What, darlin'?" She shivered.

            "I'm falling for you, all over again." He furrowed his brow and she smiled, "I don't think I can lose you again." He nodded, kissing her nose. 

            "I know," he took her face in a similar gesture, turning his head so that he could kiss her as thoroughly as she deserved to be kissed. When he pulled back her ice blue eyes had darkened a shade or two, a sure sign of her desire, "But if you fall," be began slowly, knowing he shouldn't make promises he couldn't keep, and also not being able to stop himself. "I'll be there to catch you." 

            Leora wanted to tell him not to say it if he didn't mean it, but she couldn't. She didn't want this to turn into yet another fight, the moment was here and she wanted to enjoy it. She smiled, raising her head to his, offering her lips for a long, deep kiss. It broke and they sat for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, a smile tugging her lips, his look that of a man who just got lucky and is very, very sure of his abilities. "Logan-"

            "Hey Logan!" Leora was cut off, the doors to his room thrown open and a ball of energy bouncing in. Leora jumped, immediately going to pull the sheets closer to her body, Logan sitting up, not really caring exactly how precarious a situation his modesty was with the sheet. Rogue stopped before she could speak again, her eyes widening in shock, not that Leora blamed her. The girl's face fell, looking as though she'd been punched in the stomach. Leora sat up slowly, holding the sheet to her chest, trying not to look condescending. It appeared the Wolverine was having the same problem whereas under normal circumstances he'd have told the teenager to simply get the hell out. 

            "What is it, Marie?" Rogue jumped, she'd been staring at Leora rather than Logan, betrayal shining in her eyes. When he spoke she blushed, taking a hasty step backward. 

            "N-nothing, I just… uhm… nevermind." She turned, tripping over an ottoman and then backing back out of the door, "I'm sorry."

            "Marie-" she waved a hand, looking pained.

            "I'm sorry!" She slammed the doors shut behind her. 


	6. Chapter Six

Title: Bring me to Life Chapter Six

Author's Notes: Sorry this one took so long. Hope ya'll like it like you liked the last one (assuming you liked the last one…) Enjoy!

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            Leora stared at the closed door in surprise, Logan made a sound in his throat and she turned to look at him. He looked just as stricken as she felt. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sheets fall to her lap. "You should go talk to her," she murmured softly. He raised his eyebrows.

            "You sure that's such a good idea? She probably hates me right now." Leora shook her head.

            "No, it's me she's hating right now," thinking back to the look of betrayal the girl had had on her face, Leora realized had she taken the time to realize, the girl's emotions had been a rainbow pallet, first the startled orange of surprise, then the deep royal blue of pain, followed by an emerald green of jealousy, and finally a rage so very raw that it was no longer red, but white hot. And over it all, what probably made it most unbearable for her, a blushing baby pink of embarrassment, she'd walked in on a very intimate moment, she was probably beating herself up, feeling like a clod and a child. 

            "You didn't do anything," he pointed out and Leora gave him a look. 

            "She told me yesterday how she felt about you, I knew it and I still pursued this-"

            "But we already had something."

            "You're right, except it'd been a while and I'd told her I doubted anything would happen. She thought I'd steer clear of you, even if it wasn't out of regard for her feelings, then because I'd said you didn't want me. This is like I lied to her, like I deliberately went behind her back." He rolled his eyes, his look more than clear 'women', throwing the sheet off his body and sliding out from the bed. Leora had a moment to stare at his naked body before he pulled the jeans over his hips, turning around and zipping them before coming back to the bed. He grabbed her suddenly, both hands sliding to her hair and pulling her forward. Leora found herself in the middle of a passion filled kiss before she had time to think straight. She kissed him back, bringing up a hand to cup his face, but he pulled back just as quickly as he'd grabbed her. 

            "Be careful," he muttered, as though as an excuse for what had just happened. She got slowly out of the bed herself, wrapping the robe around her body, the nightgown seemed to have disappeared somewhere. Probably under the bed, or the blankets that had fallen to the floor, but she didn't' feel like looking for it. At her questioning look he sighed, walking over to her and placing his hands on her hips, drawing her body against his. "If you're right, then whatever it is that's going to happen… it's going to happen soon. We just saw to that." 

            "Logan-"

            "I don't want anything to happen to you," he admitted finally, as though surprised with himself. "I wasn't there once. I don't want that to happen again." So that's what it was. She stared up at him in surprise. His guilt was palpable, a living thing inside him, glowing a dusky golden brown and eating at him like acid. She placed a hand on either side of his face. 

            "I don't _blame_ you for what happened to me."

            "I know, darlin'. But you said it yourself, if I hadn't left the way I did, then you wouldn't have gone looking for me, the way _you_ did." 

            "It could have just as easily have happened while you were still around," she pointed out, "and what would you have done then? I don't remember who it was; would you have ripped apart all the seedy bars in New Orleans until you found him? If he was even still around?" His look said that he very well would have. She sighed. "Logan… it wouldn't change anything." 

            "I know." 

            "Do you? Do you really? Because Xavier's talking about hypnosis, so that I can remember myself rather than him sifting through my head. If I suddenly remember a face…" 

            "I'm not going to leave you with things like they are right now." He answered, pulling away from her and grabbing a shirt from the wing backed chair. She arched an eyebrow. 

            "But if we clear this up and _then_ I remember, then you'll do it. Is that it?" He didn't answer, just walked doggedly to the door, ignoring her. Leora made a sound in her throat, a mimic of the growl he was so very good at. "_Tell_ me, Logan, if I suddenly remember you're going to go after them!"  Logan smirked, it was good she was behind him, otherwise his face so very close to laughter would probably irritate her further. She found herself following him down the hallway, storming more like, the satin robe her only protection from the eyes of anybody who might be passing by. "Would you _answer_ me?!" He stopped before they reached the main hall, turning around so quickly that she rammed into him. Stepping backward Leora put a hand to her throat. 

            "Yes!" he answered, not angry but exasperated surely. "I'm not just letting this go, Leora. Someone hurt you, someone _touched_ you," he amended, the venom in his voice making her skin crawl. "As worried as I am about Marie right now… I haven't forgotten that." 

            "So you'll just up and leave again," she answered quietly, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. 

            "It wouldn't be like last time, Leora," he answered calmly, placing his hands on her shoulders. She stared up at him.

            "Wouldn't it? You'd wait until I was asleep so that you wouldn't have to suffer through a good bye, only you'll convince yourself it's so that you won't prolong my hurt, I'll wake up and you'll just be gone. Your clothes… everything. It'll be like you were never there. Admit it." 

            "But this time I'd be back," he pointed out, trying to make her understand. 

            "Would you?" She blinked, tossing her hair out of her face, "Would you really? Or would you just stay away long enough for me to get the message, not knowing if you were alive or dead, and then it'd be so long that finally I'd move on as well?" She dared him silently to contradict her. He raised his eyebrows, her voice was soft but her eyes were alive, dark with anger and pain, he hadn't realized he'd hurt her that much the last time. He wanted to tell her it really would be different, but he wasn't sure if it would be. He'd been running for so long it was like second nature, he wasn't sure if he were capable of staying in one place for to long. 

            "Leora…" he began, but wasn't sure what to say. She crossed her arms over her chest, ending up cradling her breasts, women's bodies just weren't made to be menacing. 

            "What?" She challenged softly. He sighed, maybe the damage was to much and had already been done. 

            "I have to go find Marie," he answered quietly, turning on his heel and walking boldly through the double doors. Leora stared after him open mouthed. Damn the man! She turned abruptly, intent on walking back to her own room and jumped nearly out of her skin when she realized she was being watched. 

            "Is it safe to come out?" She glared at Scott, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

            "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he shrugged, opening the door wider, causing her to realize that he was leaving his bedroom. 

            "I've been waiting for you two to shut up for about ten minutes. Wasn't sure if I was going to have to come out here and referee or not." 

            "You were spying on us?" She asked and he laughed.

            "Honey, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but Wolverine's not exactly made to be quiet. Spying wasn't the word. More like… trying to go deaf for a while." She blushed and he grinned. 

            "I'm sorry," she sighed, "it seems like I'm stepping on all kinds of toes lately." 

            "Nah, don't worry about it. Now, want to talk?" 

            "Not especially. I'm just going to go walk for a while." 

            "Well… you might want to put some clothes on first, I mean, it is mid afternoon and there are a lot of teenage guys around." Leora laughed in spite of herself. She declined from pointing out that most of them had already seen her bare-chested anyway. But she shrugged. Turning from the main hallway and walking back down the hall. Scott stared after her, arching an eyebrow, she certainly was something. "Leora, wait up!" 

            She stopped on the hardwood floor, not turning, but he caught up quickly anyway. "Yes?" She answered finally, looking over her shoulder and through a cloud of cherry black hair. 

            "Want some company on that walk?" She arched an eyebrow, "It's not a line, honestly," because Jean'd kill him from a thousand paces, "But it was obvious that you two were getting pretty personal. I won't ask questions," he offered. She stared at him, considering. How nice would it be to just unload everything that was in her head to somebody who wouldn't' try to psycho-analyze it and who wouldn't gently prod her into revealing more or remembering more for herself, or who most importantly, wouldn't judge? She sighed, rolling her head back to stretch the muscles.

            "Wait out here," she answered finally, sweeping past him and shutting the door to her suite in his face. Ten minutes later, Leora emerged in a pair of low slung jeans and a halter styled tank top that covered more than the tank the day before, but still bared midriff and left little to the imagination. On her feet were a pair of strappy looking heeled sandals, she was swathed in blue and green, the jeans a deep blue and the top a jade green that complemented her eyes and hair well. He stared, then found himself being reminded that he had a steady girlfriend and he wanted to help this woman. That was all. Just help, a willing ear and a shoulder if she needed to cry. Yup… just those two body parts. An ear and a shoulder, nothing more. 

            "You look good," he couldn't help but point out and she smiled.

            "Thanks. Did you have anywhere in particular you wanted to go?" He shook his head.

            "Nope, lead the way." 

            A while later, but no more than a half hour, and Scott found he had a grudging respect for the Wolverine. They were walking around the large lake, on the far side, the school across from them, and she had told him the highlights of their relationship. Cyclops was finding there was more to Logan than he'd given him credit for. Apparently he'd helped this one through some pretty rough times. "…And then I guess it got to be too much for him," she finished, staring across the lake, her voice shaking for the first time since they began talking. 

            "What do you mean?" Summers asked, not able to help himself.

            "I thought you said no questions?" Leora said, a laugh in her voice. 

            "Yeah well… so really, what happened?" Leora laughed then, shaking her head, he really was a puppy in so many ways. 

            "What man wants to wake up every night to comfort his girlfriend? Especially when he's got nightmares of his own," she pointed out gently. 

            "You had nightmares?" She nodded, looking into the distance, remembering.

            "Yeah… I don't remember them really, but I can remember waking in a cold sweat, not being able to talk, afraid of the dark, hell of my own shadow, really. He was…" she shrugged, "I dunno, gentle? Patient? He held me when I cried, he never questioned, he lay next to me when he knew it was the only way I'd be able to sleep. But he was rough in his own way." At Scott's look she rolled her eyes, "You know what he's like. We fought constantly, over the stupidest things," she laughed, "I remember once we didn't' speak for a week over which was better regular or lite beer." Scott laughed.

            "You're joking." 

            "Nope. It was just… I dunno, something we did. Then one day I woke up and reached for him and he was gone. Just… gone. No note, no message on the answering machine, just pfft. Like some sort of demented dream." 

            "And that's when you went looking for him?" She nodded. 

            "And you know what happened after that." 

            "Yeah," he looked at her carefully, "I do. But do you?" She stared.

            "What?" 

            "Well," he stared, staring at the school, not looking at her, "you say you know what happened, and I think you do, but more like you've been told over and over so now you know but you don't _know_, if you know what I mean." She stared at him, that actually made sense, but she still wasn't sure what he was saying. Sitting down on the grass she looked up at him and he sat cross legged in front of her. "Are your memories really repressed, or are you just not looking at them?" 

            "What?" Scott shook his head, what _was_ he talking about, anyway? That's it, next time there was nothing on TV he was turning _off_ the TV. Any more Oprah and he was going to become Dr. Phil. 

            "Do you mind trying something?" Leora was immediately on guard.

            "What do you mean?" He sighed.

            "Trust me, okay? We won't do anything you don't want to do." 

            "Okay, now you sound like Logan." Summers gave her a look and rapidly shook his head.

            "Don't ever tell me the story behind that one." He reached for her hands, taking them in his own and putting them together, almost like he wanted her to pray. "Now close your eyes." Leora stared at him in amusement for a beat, then obediently closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips. "Now, I want you to remember that day, when you woke up, when you found him gone. What'd you do? And don't answer unless you have a real memory, not just a mental picture, okay?" She nodded.

            "Okay… he was gone," she furrowed her brow, "I… got rather frantic, I tore the house apart, anything that wasn't nailed down got thrown across the room." 

            "So you were angry?"

            "No, I was hurt. Upset, why did he leave? I mean, he didn't say anything, I didn't even know we were having problems," her voice trembled a bit and she stopped, steadying it. She opened her eyes. "What are you doing?" 

            "Not a damn thing. This isn't hypnosis, this is just you remembering. We can stop any time." His voice was gentle, soft, almost like a big brother. "Don't stop just because you're scared. You trust me, right?" She nodded and he reached out, putting a hand over her eyes, "then let's keep this up. Worst case you don't remember shit and I don't' quit my day job." Leora smirked and closed her eyes again, she felt Scott's hand leave and she went back to the memories, sifting through for what she wasn't sure. 

            "I thought he'd come back, that if I sat long enough he'd just come sauntering in after a while and everything would be fine. By six o'clock I realized that wasn't going to happen. So, I grabbed a jacket and left. I knew the bars he liked, I figured he'd be in one of them, or at least somebody would have seen him before he moved on. I stared at Tooley's then went to One Eyed Jack's, neither of the bartenders had seen him all day." She sighed, she hated this part, remembering the walk from street to street. Before he'd left, they'd walked this street together, hand in hand, watching the women who walked with their arms crossed, the lost look in their eyes. She'd joked that she'd never be one of them, that if he left she'd just go get drunk rather than send out a one person search party. But there she was, walking the debris ridden streets off Bourbon and King and Queen and praying to whatever saint might be around that he'd show up out of nowhere. 

            Scott watched her silently, she wasn't saying anything, but it was obvious that whatever it was they were doing was working. Her eyes darted back and forth behind the closed lids, her lips parted a bit and her breath coming through in slow gasps. "Leora?" He asked softly, "Where are you?" 

            "After I tried the ones he spent the most time in… I went to SpicyHot, this place that he'd never taken me to, but that I knew he went to." She laughed shortly, "He went there when he wanted to be alone, said that it wasn't a place for me. And he was right, I think I was more scared of the cliental then I was of never finding him again. Grisled bikers and truckers, druggies and drunks, it wasn't a very nice place."

            "But you went in anyway." Statement rather than question. She nodded. 

            "Yeah. And strangely, after going to the bartender, I found him." Scott arched an eyebrow, his eyes watching her through the red tinting of the glasses. He hadn't expected her to say she'd found him. "He was sitting alone, at the end of the bar, smoking one of those damned cigars and staring at nothing. I went over to him, asked him why he'd left and it was like for a second… he didn't recognize me." She shook her head, coughing once, "It was strange, I mean… we'd been together for months and he didn't know me. But he got over it quickly, grinning up at me and making some kind of flippant answer about needing to get out for a while, like he hadn't packed up his shit and left. Then he got up from the bar and walked out the back, without even a second glance." She was angry at him still, that much was obvious, but Scott found himself realizing something about this wasn't quite right. Logan wasn't the type to play games, if he had something to say he said it.

            "You followed him?" Leora squinted her eyes shut.

            "Damn right I followed him, the man had no idea how worried I was! There's a back entrance to the bar, Logan left through it, I'm standing here in the middle of this god awful bar and he just gets up and walks away from me," Scott stared at her, suddenly she was speaking in present tense. He wondered briefly what he'd gotten himself into.

            "Leora…" But she wasn't hearing him. Her hands had tightened against each other, then breaking apart and grabbing his own hands of their own volition, lacing fingers and squeezing hard. 

            "It's dark out here, I can't see him anymore, I call out to him but I can't hear him. There's someone in the alley though, because I hear them laughing. I yell at him that this isn't funny and then this… thing… comes out of the shadows." 

            "Thing?" Scott tried to loosen her grip on his hands but she wasn't letting up. 

            "It's… he's…" she shivered, "he's so tall that I step back, but I hit the garbage bin, the corner cut into my shoulder and I yell because it hurts. He makes a grab for me but I sidestep, his hair is long and blonde, but it's mangled, matted in places. He's big, like a linebacker or something. He's lifting  a hand and his nails are thick, grossly pointed, like talons or something." She was shaking, Scott tried to break his hands free so that he could try to snap her out of it, mentally kicking the hell out of himself for doing this without the professor around, her breath quickened. "I can't really see his face… but his teeth are pointed, and really, really white, the streetlamp at the end of the alley is shining on them. I trip and try to crap walk away from him, but he grabs for me and this time gets me. His hand goes around my elbow and I scream, but he slaps me and it hurts, I taste blood in my mouth and know that my lip is probably split. He hauls me up and my ankle turns so that I nearly fall again, my shoes are heeled and not very stable. This time he puts his arms under my arm pits and grabs me that way. I'm in a tank top and his nails dig into my shoulder blades. I scream this time, it hurts and he's cutting me with his nails. I'm yelling for help, but nobody's coming to help me. I start to cry and he's shoving me against the wall of the club. I turn my head away from his face, he's raping me, but I don't want him to kiss me… that'd make it worse somehow. I'm screaming my head off and he's not stopping, it hurts so much!" she shivered again, she hadn't stopped shivering and Scott had a feeling her body didn't realize it was summer, this wasn't the type of cold that just went away. 

            "Leora!" She didn't respond.

            "He's not stopping!" She felt a sob in the back of her throat and it didn't' register, "I turn my head the other way, but no matter where I look I can't get away from him. His eyes are black, no white, just black. There's somebody else in the shadows, I call to them for help and they step into the light." She sucked in her breath. "It's Logan!" she whispered, her voice so surprised and hoarse that it took Scott completely by surprise. 

            "It's… Logan." 

            "Yeah… he's… it's Logan. But there's something wrong with his eyes." She shook her head, hair flying in all directions. "They're yellow, slitted almost like a snakes and he's just watching me. Then he grabs my face and kisses me, like this is what I _deserve_!"

            "Leora, slow down, calm down, _breathe_!" Scott was just as agitated as she was, but his fingers were in a vice grip and her entire demeanor was different, like she was trancing and he had no way to get her out of it. 

            "He walks away, I can smell him still, motor oil and whiskey, and then he's gone and that… thing… pulls out of me and just lets me fall on the pavement." She was breathing heavy through her nose, tears trailing down her face, "They leave and I don't know how long I'm here alone, in the alley. Then a pair of feet are there, I can't look up, I'm too afraid that one of them came back. But it's not. I'm being lifted, I think I'm fainting because everything's black, but when I open my eyes again… I'm in a hospital. The man is leaning over the gurney, he's old and English, he's telling me that I can thank him later, that he'll be back to finish what he started, and then he's gone." She was shivering and her face was tear streaked. Her grip on Cyclops loosened enough that he was able to jerk his hands free, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her once, then again for good measure.

            "Where are you now, Leora?" she shook her head, "Open your eyes, Leora, open your eyes!" Her body shook violently and she collapsed against him, sobbing. 

            "Oh god, I remember!" He held her silently, rocking her, not sure how she'd come out of it, or what he'd done, but knowing for damn sure she'd come out of her repression. 

            "It's okay, it's all gonna be okay." 

            "No it's not!" she pulled back, looking him in the eye. "He was _there_!" 

            "You mean Logan?" She nodded, hugging herself.

            "He was there, he practically helped him. How can I let him touch me again?" 

            "Leora…" he stared at her, "that wasn't Logan." She stared right back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

            "I know what I saw. I was there, Scott. I remember everything." 

            "I know you do, but I'm telling you, it sounds like that was another mutant." 

            "What?"

            "Her name is Mystique. That's not the first time she's emulated him. And the blonde Goliath? Sounds like Sabertooth. And the man that took you to the hospital is probably Magneto if I'm right." 

            "But why? What did he have to gain letting his people rape me in a back alley?" Scott looked perplexed.

            "I don't know. But you'll tell the professor. He'll figure it out," he answered confidently. Leora sighed, rising from her cross legged position and going to stand at the edge of the lake. She stared at the school, while they were on school grounds still, it was easy to pretend that they weren't. 

            "I'm so sick of this." 

            "I know," he rose, going to stand behind her, gently putting a hand on her back. "Do you regret what just happened?" he asked softly, "I didn't think it'd work that well."

            "That was working well?" she shrugged, "You recognize those people like some game of match and then sound proud that you were able to do it, but they raped me, Scott. How can I be happy knowing their names when I saw what's going to happen to the school? I'm going to see them again, and he basically promised me that he was going to kill me. Or whatever 'finish what I started' means." She hadn't turned, she was watching the water lap the shore. 

            "Do you want me to go find Logan?" She shook her head violently.

            "I'm not ready to see him yet. They knew exactly what they were doing, using his face. I'll never be able to look at him the same way again." She turned, looking him in the eye. "What am I going to do?"

            "That's why you're here, to get help. You knew you'd remember, eventually." She nodded in defeat.

            "You're right of course. I just didn't think it'd hurt this much. I don't know if I can let him touch me again." 

            "Him? Or any man?" Leora shrugged. 

            "I don't know. But honestly, it's one thing to say that I was raped in the abstract, but I remember now. If he asks, I'll be able to tell him. I'm afraid," she said finally. At Scott's questioning look she sighed, "he's faced them before, yes?" Summers nodded. "Then how do I know that after he knows… every time he sees me, he wont' be seeing me, Scott. He'll be seeing them." She hugged her body, her hands cupping her shoulders. Scott put his hands on her waist.

            "Hey, now listen up." She looked up at him, "I may not think very much of him, but Logan's a man. When he sees you," she looked up at him through a curtain of hair and Scott had to swallow, "he sees a very beautiful woman who's been hurt. It's little wonder he wants to kill whoever hurt you, he'd be insane not to." 

            Leora stared up at him in surprise, "What are you saying, Scott?" 

            He shook his head as though to clear it, "Just that he's very lucky. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. When he looks at you, if he sees someone else, then it's his own fault." His hand cupped her face and Leora found herself leaning into the touch, not sure why. She stepped closer to him and his other hand held her hip, drawing her ever forward. 

            "But what if-"

            His lips covered hers in a deep, thorough kiss. Leora responded to the touch with a need that belied her earlier fear of a man's touch. She needed this, she needed Logan more, but right now the best thing for her body was the reassurance that she was still desirable. The kiss went on and on, sweet, sweeter, then turning into something more. Leora opened her mouth to him, taking his tongue and giving him her own, kissing him with all the fervor in her body. She knew the kiss must end, if not then it'd turn into something else entirely, something she wasn't sure he was ready for. She touched his face, caressing his cheek even as he kissed her, her fingers trailing down his neck to his chest, then lower, channeling the fear into the touch, giving him time to end the kiss. He got the message.

            Scott pulled back, surprise all over his face. "What just happened?" 

            "You tell me." She answered softly, touching her lower lip with her forefinger. 

            "I love Jean." Leora stared up at him silently and he ran a hand through his hair. "This didn't happen… well, it did, but it just happened, I didn't plan it. God, it's not like I dragged you out here to…"

            "Scott," Leora took his hands in her own, steadying him. "Honey, I know. It just happened. But it's what I needed. I needed to be reassured that I was still desirable, not just to Logan, but to men in general. You gave that back to me. That's all it was. It's nothing more unless you make it so." 

            The sun was dipping in the sky, it was getting close to dusk. "Are you sure?" She nodded.

            "I wouldn't' have said so if I didn't mean it. Now, I should go see the professor, don't you think?" 

            And that was the obvious end of that. If it didn't come up again, then so much the better.

*******************************************************************************

            Logan had stormed out of the sleeping hall with the full intent of tracking down Marie. He'd gotten down the stairs and out the front doors before realizing she had probably fled back to her rooms. He growled in frustration, turning on his heel and refusing to admit even to himself that Leora had gotten to him. He wasn't going to get as hung up on her as he had last time. Dammit, that had been the problem last time anyway! 

            Raging back up the stairs he slammed through the doors that led to the sleeping hall and past Summers, who was standing in the deserted hall with his hands shoved in his pockets like an idiot. Logan glared at him and the boy had just grinned enigmatically, turning his back and walking a little farther up the hall. Wolverine rolled his eyes, going all the way to the end of the hall and then down another, ending up in the students' sleeping quarters. He stopped in front of one of the doors, they all looked the same really, same sumptuous mahogany, same scrolled woodwork, they ran together after a while. He knocked once and without further preamble, opened the door, sweeping inside. 

            Marie sat on the window seat, a pillow clutched to her midsection, her knees pulled up to her chin. She looked briefly at the door and rolled her eyes, going back to looking out the window. "What?" She asked tiredly. 

            "What'd you want to tell me earlier?" He growled softly, starting in safe territory. She rolled her eyes.

            "It's not important." 

            "It was important enough for you to come tearing into my room twenty minutes ago." He was rewarded with a faint blush, she turned from the window to glare at him, her cheeks tinged pink. 

            "I apologized for that." 

            "I know." She sighed, staring back out the window. Logan found himself at a loss, what the hell was he supposed to say to her, anyway? "Marie, what's wrong?" He asked finally, going for direct.

            "Nothing." Well damn.

            "Bull shit." Her hands tightened on the pillow and he sat down on the end of her bed, staring at her. 

            "I was just surprised, is all." 

            "That is not all, kid, if it were then you'd be over it by now. Why the moping?" 

            "I'm _not_ a _kid_!" She put her legs on the floor, tossing the pillow at the other end of the bed, it landed with a muffled thud and he cocked an eyebrow. 

            "Okay… I'm sorry." 

            "No you're not, Logan!" she rose, raging now, "You always do that, you call me 'kid' like some endearment, you know I'm not, hell _you_ were the one that gave me the speech daddy speech about Bobby, yet it's like you want to think of me as the same twelve year old you left here years ago." 

            "Well you're sure as hell acting like a twelve year old," he muttered, then rose as well, towering over her. "What do you want, Marie? You really want me to treat you like an adult? Fine, you wanna know what I do to adults that bust into my bedroom for no reason and embarrass the hell outta my girlfriend?" She took a step back, Logan faltered. Girlfriend? Since when had he decided Leora was permanently back in his life. 

            "Why her?" She asked belligerently, staring up at him with a determined jut to her chin. He rolled his eyes.

            "What is that supposed to mean?" 

            "I'm serious, I get that you fucked her back in the day and I get that she's still in love with you, okay fine. But why her? Storm turn you down like Jean did?" 

            "Nice talk, kid." She glared and he glared back, "You are acting like a five year old! What's your beef with Ororo?" She rolled her eyes.

            "Puh-lease Logan, you've tried your hand at every chick in the manor, except the ones who are jailbait." 'all except me' hung unsaid in the air and she turned back to the window, he didn't' have to be Leora, or hell either of  the resident psychics to know that anger flowed off her in waves. But hurt was there as well.

            "Your jealous," he said softly, surprised. He knew she was, but strangely he hadn't wanted to admit it when Leora told him. If he didn't see it, then it wasn't true. But now it was undeniable. 

            "Yeah, and I sorta deserve to be." She turned back to face him, "How many times have I had to listen to you complain about Jean, huh Logan? How many times have I sat there and listened while you lamented about the runaround she gives you. And then you flirt with Storm like crazy and I have to watch that too!" 

            "I do _not_-"         

            "Yes you do! You may call it simple conversation, but everybody else knows it's a little bit more than that." She sighed, tossing her hair back, "You're like that with everybody, your humor is nothing BUT double entendre with everybody but me. Why, Logan? Am I really so undesirable that you can be bitching about Jean even when there's a flesh and blood woman in the room who's willing to make it all better?" He stared at her, dumbfounded. 

            "Marie, I never meant to hurt you." 

            "Well you did!" tears shown in her eyes and he winced. "You were the only one around here that treated me decent, you weren't afraid of me, you let me hang out with you even though it cramped your style. Logan, you saved my life a couple of times and you can still stand there and swear that you don't know how I feel about you?" She was crying now, tears streaking down her face, the skimpy tank top heaved with her chest, her fingers in the gloves clenching uselessly at her sides, the scarf fluttered around her neck as she stepped toward him. "Can you honestly look at me and tell that you don't' feel it too?" 

            She was right, they did have a connection, but he had a feeling it had more to do with the fact that she'd been inside his head than the sexual link he shared with Leora. She reached out finally, her hands flattening against his chest, her entire demeanor changing from scared, crying child, to lusting woman in seconds flat. He stared at her in more surprise than he had been earlier. Mentally he was preparing to yell at Leora for a month about this, he was finding more about Marie than he'd ever wanted to find out. Logan found himself being gently shoved down to the bed, he ended sitting on the corner again, his knees wide, Marie standing between them her hands on his shoulders, looking down at him. 

            "I can give you everything they can, Logan. I understand about you, so much more than they do. Leora's just some rich bitch who's never been alone before and Jean? She's got Scott. But me? I've been alone too." He felt something inside laugh at that, Leora just a rich bitch? Right. He found Marie didn't know nearly as much as she seemed to think she did. But this wasn't malicious, this 'seduction' was a last ditch effort on her part. She was petrified that she'd get shot down, that he'd tell her that he was never really her friend, that she'd be vulnerable and he'd kick her in the stomach, and he'd have to, but not because he wanted to. 

            "Marie," his hands caught her wrists, drawing her hands away from his skin, "You're right, you have been alone. But you've got Bobby."

            "He's not you, Logan," she whispered softly, another tear falling from her eye, "Nobody is you." 

            "This cant' happen, darlin'," he answered back, talking low, not under his breath but gently. She winced. "I love you, Marie, but we've got something better than what I've got with Leora." 

            "Oh yeah? What's that?" she asked bitterly, turning away from him and stalking back to the window. He rose, following her he grabbed her waist and forced her to look at him.

            "What I have with Leora, it'll end eventually," she stared up at him, "They always end," he said finally, admitting this to himself as much as to her, "They end badly, and that's one of the reasons why I left her that time. Eventually she'll realize I'm not as great as she thought I was and she'll leave. And darlin', any guy'd be damn lucky to get you, but I can't. I don't' want to hurt you like I'll end up hurting her. With you and me it's different, I don't' have to be careful around you, I don't have to worry that I'll say the wrong thing or I'll fuck up or whatever because we're closer than that." 

            "It's better," she spat, still unable to keep the bitterness from her voice, though her resolve to be angry at him was crumbling. "You're serious, aren't you?" He stared at her and she realized he was serious. He honestly believed that Leora was going to leave him one day. Rogue shook her head. "So you're telling me if not for the fact that you're afraid you'll hurt me like you're gonna hurt her, you'd be jumping at the chance to be with me." 

            "Something like that," he wouldn't' lie to her, Bobby was damn lucky and when he'd heard they were dating he'd been pissed. Rogue was a great catch, but she was also like his daughter. Short of actually _telling_ her that, he couldn't think of any other way to put this. And then there was the thing were she couldn't touch him. 

            "Then look at me like you look at her." He winced and she pressed on, trying to keep the desperation from her voice, "Just once, Logan. I'm serious, just do that for me once and it won't hurt so much." 

            "I can't," he answered finally and she nodded, tears streaking her face again.

            "Get out," she whispered softly. He opened his mouth to say something, she could tell he was worried about her and that didn't' make it any better either, Rogue hated it when he worried about her, it made her feel about three years old. "I'm fine, I just want to be alone." 

            "You can always come to me," he said finally, drawing away from her and walking to the door. He didn't want to leave her like this, she could tell, but if she got any more of his false sympathy she was going to puke. Rogue knew the real reason he wouldn't be with her, he saw her like a little freak, even more freakish than him, he couldn't ever touch her even if he wanted to because of her damned 'power' and she was just a kid in his eyes. 

            "Right." She said to the closed door, turning to look at herself in the mirror. "I'm not a kid, Logan. And one of these days you're going to see that." 


End file.
